HE  ^ANSWERING  -VOICE 

. HUNDRED'LOVE'LYRICS 

■  BY- WOMEN 


SELECTED -BY 
SARA-TEASDALE 


Digitized  by  tine  Internet  Arcliive 

in  2007  with  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.arcliive.org/details/answeringvoiceonOOteasricli 


"jr 


THE  ANSWERING  VOICE 

ONE  HUNDRED  LOVE  LYRICS  BY  WOMEN 


THE  ANSWERING  VOICE 

ONE  HUNDRED  LOVE  LYRICS 
BY  WOMEN 

SELECTED    BY 

SARA  TEASDALE 

AUTHOR  OK  "rivers  TO  THE  SEA,"    "HELEN  OF 
TROY,  AND  OTHER  POEMS,"   ETC. 


BOSTON  NEW  YORK  CHICAGO 

HOUGHTON    MIFFLIN    COMPANY 

(SLhe  nttec)9i&e  }^tt0  Cambribge 

1917 


COPYRIOHT,    I917,   BY  SARA  TBASDALK   FILSINOER 
ALL    RIGHTS    RESERVED 

J*Mblished  Septtmhtr  igrj 


THE    HAPPY    LABOR 

OF    SELECTING    THESE    POEMS 

I    DEDICATE    TO 

MY    SISTER 


'Epos  SavT€  fj.'  6  Xv(ri/xcXi/s  86v€i 
y\vKvTnKpov  afjidxavov  oprrerov. 

0  gods^  what  iove,  what  yearning,  contributed  to 
this:' 


PREFATORY  NOTE 

I  HAVE  tried  to  bring  together  in  this  book  the 
most  beautiful  love-lyrics  written  in  English  by 
women  since  the  middle  of  the  last  century.  During 
this  period,  for  the  first  time  in  the  history  of  Eng- 
lish literature,  the  work  of  women  has  compared 
favorably  with  that  of  men ;  and  in  no  other  field 
have  they  done  such  noteworthy  work  as  in  poetry. 
Before  this  period,  for  reasons  well  known  to  the 
student  of  feminism,  sincere  love  poems  by  women 
were  very  rare  in  England  and  America.  With  the 
exception  of  Lady  Barnard's  "  Auld  Robin  Gray  " 
and  a  poem  by  Susanna  Blamire,  I  have  found 
nothing  that  seemed  worthy  of  inclusion. 

In  most  cases  the  finest  utterance  of  women  poets 
has  been  on  love,  so  that  this  book  is,  I  venture  to 
hope,  a  golden  treasury  of  lyrics  by  women. 

I  have  included  no  long  poems,  and  no  transla- 
tions, and  I  have  avoided  poems  in  which  the  poet 
dramatized  a  man's  feelings  rather  than  her  own. 

I  want  to  acknowledge  very  gratefully  my  in- 

ix 


Prefatory  Note 

debtedness  for  counsel  and  suggestions  to  Harriet 
Monroe,  Jessie  B.  Rittenhouse,  Louis  Untermeyer, 
Henry  L.  Mencken,  William  Stanley  Braithwaite, 
Thomas  S.  Jones,  Jr.,  John  Hall  Wheelock,  and 
Thomas  B.  Mosher.  From  my  husband,  Ernst  B. 
Filsinger,  I  have  received  unfailing  aid  and  encour- 
agement. 

Sara  Teasdale 


ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 

Thanks  are  due  the  following  publidiers  and 
authors  for  permission  to  include  selections  from 
the  volumes  enumerated  below  :  — 

To  Mr.  Richard  G.  Badger  (Boston)  for  poems 
from  "  April  Twilights,"  by  Willa  Sibert  Gather, 
and  "The  Dancers,"  by  Edith  M.  Thomas. 

To  Messrs.  Benziger  Brothers  (New  York)  for 
a  poem  from  "Irish  Poems,"  by  Katharine  Tynan. 

To  Messrs.  William  Blackwood  &  Sons  (Edin- 
burgh) for  a  poem  from  "  Songs  of  the  Glens  of 
Antrim,"  by  Moira  O'Neill. 

To  Mr.  Edmund  D.  Brooks  (Minneapolis)  for 
a  poem  from  "A  Lark  Went  Singing,"  by  Ruth 
Guthrie  Harding. 

To  Messrs.  Bums  &  Gates  (London)  for  a  poem 
from  "  Poems,"  by  Alice  Meynell. 

To  Messrs.  Chatto  &  Windus  (London)  for 
poems  from  *'  Songs  to  Save  a  Soul,"  by  Irene 
Rutherford  McLeod. 

To  Messrs.  W.  B.  Conkey  Company  (Chicago) 

xi 


Acknowledgments 

for  a  poem  from  "  Poems  of  Passion,"  by  Ella 
Wheeler  Wilcox. 

To  Country  Life  (London)  for  a  poem  from 
*'  The  Country  Life  Anthology,"  by  Margaret 
Sackville. 

To  Messrs.  George  H.  Doran  Company  (New 
York)  for  poems  from  "  In  Deep  Places,"  by  Ame- 
lia Josephine  Burr. 

To  Messrs.  Doubleday,  Page  &  Co.  (New  York) 
for  a  poem  from  "The  Far  Country,"  by  Florence 
Wilkinson. 

To  Messrs.  Duffield  &Co.  (New  York)  for  poems 
from  "  The  Book  of  Love,"  by  Elsa  Barker,  and 
**  Gypsy  Verses,"  by  Helen  Hay  Whitney. 

To  Messrs.  Funk  &  Wagnalls  Company  (New 
York)  for  a  poem  from  "The  Four  Winds  of 
Eirinn,"  by  Ethna  Carbery. 

To  Messrs.  Gay  &  Hancock,  Limited  (London), 
for  a  poem  from  "  Poems  of  Passion,"  by  Ella 
Wheeler  Wilcox. 

To  Mr.  S.  B.  Grundy  (Toronto)  for  a  poem 
from  "The  Lamp  of  Poor  Souls,"  by  Marjorie 
L.  C.  Pickthall. 

To  Messrs.  Harper  &  Brothers  (New  York)  for 

xii 


Acknowledgments 

a  poem  from  "  Flower  o'  the  Grass,"  by  Ada  Foster 
Murray. 

To  Mr.  William  Heinemann  (London)  for 
poems  from  "The  Golden  Threshold,"  by  Sarojini 
Naidu,  and  "India's  Love  Lyrics,"  by  Laurence 
Hope. 

To  Messrs.  Houghton  Mifflin  Company  (Bos- 
ton and  New  York)  for  poems  from  "  The  Sister 
of  the  Wind  "  and  "  Little  Gray  Songs  from  St. 
Joseph's,"  by  Grace  Fallow  Norton;  "The  Sing- 
ing Leaves,"  by  Josephine  Preston  Peabody  j  "  Col- 
lected Poems,"  by  Florence  Earle  Coates;  "  Happy 
Ending,"  by  Louise  Imogen  Guiney ;  "  A  Handful 
of  Lavender,"  and  "A  Quiet  Road,"  by  Lizette 
Woodworth  Reese ;  "  Afternoons  of  April,"  by 
Grace  Hazard  Conkling ;  "  The  Shoes  that  Danced," 
by  Anna  Hempstead  Branch,  and  "  A  Marriage 
Cycle,"  by  Alice  Freeman  Palmer. 

To  Mr.  B.  W.  Huebsch  (New  York)  for  poems 
from  "  Songs  to  Save  a  Soul,"  by  Irene  Rutherford 
McLeod. 

To  Mr.  Mitchell  Kennerley  (New  York)  for 
poems  from  "The  Joy  o'  Life,"  by  Theodosia 
Garrison,  and  "  Interpretations,"  by  Zoe  Akins. 


Acknowledgments 

To  Messrs.  John  Lane  Company  (New  York) 
for  poems  from  "  The  Lamp  of  Poor  Souls,"  by 
Marjorie  L.  C.  Pickthall;  "The  Golden  Thresh- 
old," by  Saro"  i  Naidu;  "India's  Love  Lyrics," 
by  Laurence  L^  -e,  and  "  Poems,"  by  Rosamund 
Marriott  Watr  r 

To  Mr.  Jc...  Lane,  The  Bodley  Head  (Lon- 
don) for  poems  from  "  The  Lamp  of  Poor  Souls," 
by  Marjorie  L.  Pickthall,  and  "  Poems,"  by  Rosa- 
mund Marriott  Watson. 

To  Messrs.  Little,  Brown  &  Co.  (Boston)  for 
poems  from  "  Poems "  (Second  and  Third  Series), 
by  Emily  Dickinson. 

To  The  Macmillan  Company  (New  York)  for 
poems  from  "  Poems,"  by  Christina  Rossetti ; 
"  Sword  Blades  and  Poppy  Seed,"  by  Amy  Lowell ; 
"  Myself  and  I,"  and  "  Crack  o'  Dawn,"  by  Fannie 
Steams  Davis ;  "  You  and  I,"  by  Harriet  Monroe, 
and  "  Songs  of  the  Glens  of  Antrim,"  by  Moira 
O'Neill. 

To  Messrs.  Macmillan  &  Co.,  Limited  (Lon- 
don), for  poems  from  "  Poems,"  by  Christina  Ros- 
setti, and  "Artemis  to  Actaeon  and  Other  Verse," 
by  Edith  Wharton. 

xiv 


Acknowledgments 

To  Mr.  Thomas  B.  Mosher  (Portland,  Maine) 
for  poems  from  "  An  Italian  Garden,"  by  A.  Mary 
F.  Robinson ;  *'  The  Flower  from  the  Ashes  and 
Other  Verse,"  by  Edith  M.  Thomas,  and  "A 
Wayside  Lute,"  by  Lizette  Woodworth  Reese. 

To  Grant  Richards,  Limited  (London),  for 
poems  from  **  The  Man  with  a  Hammer,"  by  Anna 
Wickham,  and  "  Interpretations,"  by  Zoe  Akins. 

To  Alston  Rivers,  Limited  (London),  for  a 
poem  from  "  Selected  Poems,"  by  Nora  Chesson. 

To  Messrs.  Charles  Scribner's  Sons  (New  York) 
for  poems  from  *'  Artemis  to  Actaeon  and  Other 
Verse,"  by  Edith  Wharton ;  "  Poems,"  by  Alice 
Meynell ;  "  Songs  about  Life,  Love  and  Death," 
by  Anne  Reeve  Aldrich;  "  Beyond  the  Sunset,"  by 
Julia  C.  R.  Dorr;  "The  Cycle's  Rim,"  by  Olive 
Tilford  Dargan,  and  "  The  Call  of  Brotherhood," 
by  Corinne  Roosevelt  Robinson. 

To  The  Strange  Company  (San  Francisco)  for 
poems  from  "  Poems,"  by  Nora  May  French. 

To  T.  FisHer  Unwin,  Limited  (London),  for 
poems  from  *'An  Italian  Garden,"  by  A.  Mary 
F.  Robinson,  and  "  A  London  Plane  Tree,"  by 
Amy  Levy. 


Acknowledgments 

To  The  John  C.  Winston  Company  (Philadel- 
phia) for  poems  from  "Factories  with  Other  Lyr- 
ics," by  Margaret  Widdemer. 

And  to  the  editors  of  Poetry  for  permission  to 
reprint  poems  by  Helen  Dudley,  Alice  Corbin,  and 
Jean  Starr  Untermeyer ;  to  Tke  Independent  for  a 
poem  by  Helen  Hoyt ;  to  The  Trimmed  Lamp  for 
a  poem  by  Marguerite  Wilkinson ;  to  McCluris 
Magazine  for  a  poem  by  Jessie  B.  Rittenhouse ;  to 
The  Smart  Set  for  a  poem  by  Muna  Lee ;  to  TTie 
Century  for  poems  by  Mary  Carolyn  Davies  and 
Eunice  Tietjens  ;  to  The  Forum  for  a  poem  by  Edna 
St.  Vincent  Millay ;  to  Much  Ado  for  poems  by 
Zoe  Akins ;  and  to  The  Manas  Press  (Rochester, 
New  York)  for  a  poem  by  Adelaide  Crapsey. 


CONTENTS 

Apology.  Amy  Lowell 27 

April  Ghost,  An.  Lizette  Woodtvorth  Reese  .  .  102 
Ashes  of  Life.  Edna  St.  Vincent  Millay  ...  70 
AuLD  Robin  Gray.  Anne  Barnard       ....  104 

"  Beloved,  my  beloved,  when  I  think."   Elizabeth 

Barrett  Browning 26 

Birch  Tree  at  Loschwitz,  The.  Amy  Levy   .      .  2 

Birthday,  A.  Christina  Rossetti 17 

Carnations.  Margaret  Widdemer 97 

Choice.  Emily  Dickinson 19 

"  Come  back  to  me."  Christina  Rossetti       ...  69 

Comrades.  Fannie  Stearns  Davis 49 

CoNNAUGHT  Lament,  A.  Nora  Chesson  ...  10 
"Cuttin'  Rushes."  Moira  O'Neill.      .      .       .      .94 

Cynic,  The.   Theodosia  Garrison 72 

Debts.  Jessie  B.  Rittenhouse 46 

~Deep-Sea  Pearl,  The.  Edith  M.  Thomas        .      .  103 

Dirge.  Adelaide  Crapsey 100 

"Douglas,  Douglas,  tender  and  true."    Dinah 

Mulock  Craik 114 

Ecstasy.  Sarojini  Naidu 35 

Enchanted  Sheep-fold,  The.    Josephine  Preston 
Peabody .15 

xvii 


Contents 

Farewell,  A.  Harriet  Monroe  .  .  .  .  .66 
Finis.  Rosamund  Marriott  Watson  ....  107 
Found.  Josephine  Preston  Peabody  ....  18 
Friendship  after  Love.  Ella  Wheeler  Wilcox  .  84 
From  a  Car- Window.  Ruth  Guthrie  Harding   .      .91 

Gifts.  Juliana  Horatia  Ewing 57 

"  Go  FROM  ME."  Elizabeth  Barrett  Browning       .      .     64 

•'GrANDMITHER,    think    not    I     FORGET."       WilUi 

Sibert  Gather 108 

Great  Man,  The.  Eunice  Tietjens       ....    37 

Hawthorn  Tree,  The.  Willa  Sibert  Gather      .      .  34 
Heart's  Country,  The.  Florence  Wilkinson    .      .  23 
"How  DO  I  love  thee  ?"  Elizabeth  Barrett  Brown- 
ing   43 

I  AM  the  Wind.  Zoe  Akins 80 

"I  HAVE  WANDERED  TO  A  SPRING."    Edna  Wahlert 

McGourt 5 

I  know.  Elsa  Barker 39 

"  I  LEANED  out  MY  WINDOW."  Jean  Ingelow      .      .  31 

*'  I  MUST  NOT  YIELD."    Nora  May  French    ...  63 

"  I  SAT  AMONG  THE  GREEN  LEAVES."    Marjorie  L.  G. 

Piekthall 13 

"  I  WILL  NOT  GIVE  THEE  ALL  MY  HEART."  GrOCC  Hazard 

Gonkling 56 

"If  thou  MUST  LOVE  ME,  LET  IT  BE  FOR  NOUGHT." 

Elizabeth  Barrett  Browning 41 

In  Deep  Places.  Amelia  Josephine  Burr   .      .      .51 

xviii 


Contents 

In  the  Park.  Helen  Hoyt  '•'' 14 

Incantation,  An.  Marguerite  Wilkinson    ...     21 
Insufficiency.  Elizabeth  Barrett  Browning       .      .    62 

Late  Comer,  To  a.  Julia  C.  R.  Dorr   ....     96 
"Less  THAN  THE  DUST."  Laurence  Hope      .       .      .  119 

"^"LOVE  CAME  BACK  AT  FALL  o'  DEW."    Lizette  Wood- 

worth  Reese 90 

Love  is  a  Terrible  Thing.  Grace  Fallow  Norton   .  8 

Love  me  at  Last.  Alice  Corbin 6 

Love  Song.  Mary  Carolyn  Davies         .      ...  22 

Love  Song,  Harriet  Monroe 59 

Love's  Change.  Anne  Reeve  Aldrich    .      .      .      .67 

Lynmouth  Widow,  A.  Amelia  Josephine  Burr        .  118 

Man,  The.  Helen  Hay  Whitn^ 121 

Man  with  a  Hammer,  The.  Anna  Wickham    .      .    36 
"Many  in  aftertimes  will  say."     Christina  Ros- 

setti 78 

Menace.  Katharine  Tynan 58 

Message,  The.  Margaret  Sackville       ....    85 

Name,  The.   Williamina  Parrish 30 

NoRAH.  Zo'e  Akins 129 

"Oh,  the  burden,  the  burden  op  love  ungiven." 

Grace  Fallow  Norton 12 

Old  Song,  An.  Fannie  Stearns  Davis    ....  54 

Other,  The.  Ethna  Carbery 86 

xix 


Contents 

Parting.  Emily  Dickinson 53 

Parting.  Alice  Freeman  Palmer 83 

Passer-by,  The.  Edilh  M.  Thomas      .      .       .      .111 
Possession.  Jean  Starr  Uniermeycr      ....     60 

Rain.  Jean  Starr  Unterm^yer 29 

Rain,  Rain!  Zo'e  Akins 33 

Rainbow,  The.   Vine  Colby 88 

Red  May.  A.  Mary  F.  Robinson 7 

Reminiscence,  A.  Amy  Levy 99 

Renouncement.  Alice  Meynell 65 

Requiescat.  Rosamund  Marriott  Waison   .       .       .113 

Rest.  Irene  Rutherford  McLeod 40 

Rhapsody.  Florence  Earle  Coates 24 

Rispetto,  I,  II,  III.  A.  Mary  F.  Robinson         75,  76,  77 

Sea  Song.  Laurence  Hope        ......     73 

Service.  Anna  Hempstead  Branch        .      .       .      .81 

Siller  Crown,  The.   Susanna  Blamire       ...     92 
"So  BEAUTIFUL  YOU  ARE,  INDEED."  Irene  Rulficrjord 

McLeod 20 

Somewhere  or  Other.  Christina  Rossetli         .      .       1 

Taxi,  The.  Amy  Lowell 44 

That  Day  you  came.  Lizette  Woodworth  Reese        .  52 

Tired  Woman,  The.  Anna  Wickham  .      ...  42 

To  A  Late  Comer.  Julia  C.  R.  Dorr    ....  96 

To  one  Unknown.    Helen  Dudley        ....  3 

"To-DAY    I     WENT    AMONG    THE    MOUNTAIN    FOLK." 

Olive  Tilford  Dargan 101 

XX 


Contents 

"Under  dusky  laurel  leaf."  Margaret  Widdemer  122 
Unfulfilled.  Corinne  Roosevelt  Robinson  .  .117 
Unwedded.  Ada  Foster  Murray 116 

Vos  NON  VoBis.  Edith  M.  Thomas        .      .      .      .11 

"When  I  am  dead."  Christina  Rossetti       .      .      .  112 
"When  on  the  marge  of  evening."     Louise  Imo- 
gen Guiney 25 

When  plaintively  and  near  the  cricket  sings. 

Nora  May  French 68 

"When  we  shall  be  dust."  Muna  Lee     ...  79 

Woman's  Question,  A.  Adelaide  Anne  Procter        .  47 

"Yet  for  one  rounded  moment."  Edith  Wharton  61 
"You  say  there  is  no  love."  Grace  Fallow  Norton    45 


THE  ANSWERING  VOICE 

SOMEWHERE   OR   OTHER 

Somewhere  or  other  there  must  surely  be 
The  face  not  seen,  the  voice  not  heard. 

The  heart  that  not  yet  —  never  yet  —  ah,  me ! 
Made  answer  to  my  word. 

Somewhere  or  other,  maybe  near  or  far; 

Past  land  and  sea,  clean  out  of  sight ; 
Beyond  the  wandering  moon,  bej'ond  the  star 

That  tracks  her  night  by  night. 

Somewhere  or  other,  maybe  far  or  near ; 

With  just  a  wall,  a  hedge,  between; 
With  just  the  last  leaves  of  the  dying  year 

Fallen  on  a  turf  grown  green. 

Christina  Rossetti 


THE  BIRCH  TREE  AT  LOSCHWITZ 

At  Loschwitz  above  the  city 
The  air  is  sunny  and  chill; 

The  birch  trees  and  the  pine  trees 
Grow  thick  upon  the  hill. 

Lone  and  tall,  with  silver  stem, 

A  birch  tree  stands  apart ; 
The  passionate  wind  of  spring-time 

Stirs  in  its  leafy  heart. 

I  lean  against  the  birch  tree, 
My  arms  around  it  twine; 

It  pulses,  and  leaps,  and  quivers, 
Like  a  human  heart  to  mine. 

One  moment  I  stand,  then  sudden 
Let  loose  mine  arms  that  cling : 

O  God !  the  lonely  hillside, 
The  passionate  wind  of  spring ! 

Amy  Levy 

2 


TO   ONE   UNKNOWN 

I  HAVE  seen  the  proudest  stars 
That  wander  on  through  space, 
Even  the  sun  and  moon, 
But  not  your  face. 

I  have  heard  the  violin, 
The  winds  and  waves  rejoice 
In  endless  minstrelsy ; 
Yet  not  your  voice. 

I  have  touched  the  trillifum, 
Pale  flower  of  the  land. 
Coral,  anemone. 
And  not  your  hand. 

I  have  kissed  the  shining  feet 
Of  Twilight  lover-wise, 
Opened  the  gates  of  Dawn  — 
Oh,  not  your  eyes ! 

3 


The  Answering  Voice 

I  have  dreamed  unwonted  things, 
Visions  that  witches  brew, 
Spoken  with  images. 
Never  with  you. 

Helen  Dudley 


"I  HAVE  WANDERED  TO  A  SPRING" 

I  HAVE  wandered  to  a  spring  in  the  forest  green 

and  dim, 
The  sweet  quiet  stirs  about  me  — 
The  water  twinkles  at  me, 
As  I  stoop  to  dip  my  cup, 

As  I  stoop  to  drink  —  to  him. 

True,  I  'm  only  half  in  earnest  —  I  touch  the  cool, 

wet  brim  — 
He  'd  laugh  if  he  could  see  me  — 
I  'm  glad  he  does  n't  see  me. 
As  alone  with  my  queer  gladness, 
I  stoop  to  drink  —  to  him. 

Edna  Wahlert  McCourt 


LOVE   ME  AT  LAST 

Love  me  at  last,  or  if  you  will  not, 

Leave  me ; 
Hard  words  could  never,  as  these  half-words, 

Grieve  me : 
Love  me  at  last  —  or  leave  me. 

Love  me  at  last,  or  let  the  last  word  uttered 

Be  but  your  own ; 
Love  me,  or  leave  me  —  as  a  cloud,  a  vapor. 

Or  a  bird  flown. 
Love  me  at  last  —  I  am  but  sliding  water 

Over  a  stone. 

Alice  Corbin 


\ 


O  RED   MAY 

Out  of  the  window  the  trees  in  the  Square 
Are  covered  with  crimson  May  — 

You,  that  were  all  of  my  love  and  my  care, 
Have  broken  my  heart  to-day. 

But  though  I  have  lost  you  and  though  I  despair 

Till  even  the  past  looks  gray  — 
Out  of  the  window  the  trees  in  the  Square 

Are  covered  with  crimson  May. 

A.  Mary  F.  Robinson 


0 


LOVE   IS   A  TERRIBLE   THING  ;j 

I  WENT  out  to  the  farthest  meadow, 
I  lay  down  in  the  deepest  shadow ; 

And  I  said  unto  the  earth,  "  Hold  me," 
And  unto  the  night,  "  O  enfold  me," 

And  unto  the  wind  petulantly 

I  cried,  "  You  know  not  for  you  are  free ! " 

And  I  begged  the  little  leaves  to  lean 
Low  and  together  for  a  safe  screen ; 

Then  to  the  stars  I  told  my  tale : 
"  That  is  my  home-light,  there  in  the  vale, 

"  And  O,  I  know  that  I  shall  return. 
But  let  me  lie  first  mid  the  unfeeling  fern. 

"  For  there  is  a  flame  that  has  blown  too  near. 
And  there  is  a  name  that  has  grown  too  dear. 
And  there  is  a  fear  .   .  ." 


Love  is  a  Terrible  Thing 

And  to  the  still  hills  and  cool  earth  and  far  sky 
I  made  moan, 
*'  The  heart  in  my  bosom  is  not  my  own ! 

**  O  would  I  were  free  as  the  wind  on  wing; 
Love  is  a  terrible  thing ! " 

Grace  Fallow  Norton  ''sjC^ 


/ 


A   CONNAUGHT   LAMENT 

I  WILL  arise  and  go  hence  to  the  west, 

And  dig  me  a  grave  where  the  hill-winds  call; 

But  oh,  were  I  dead,  were  I  dust,  the  fall 

Of  my  own  love's  footstep  would  break  my  rest ! 

My  heart  in  my  bosom  is  black  as  a  sloe ! 
I  heed  not  cuckoo,  nor  wren,  nor  swallow : 
Like  a  flying  leaf  in  the  sky's  blue  hollow 
The  heart  in  my  breast  is,  that  beats  so  low. 

Because  of  the  words  your  lips  have  spoken, 
(O  dear  black  head  that  I  must  not  follow) 
My  heart  is  a  grave  that  is  stripped  and  hollow, 
As  ice  on  the  water  my  heart  is  broken. 

0  lips  forgetful  and  kindness  fickle, 

The  swallow  goes  south  with  you :  I  go  west 
Where  fields  are  empty  and  scythes  at  rest. 

1  am  the  poppy  and  you  the  sickle ; 
My  heart  is  broken  within  my  breast. 

Nora  Chesson 

10 


o 

VOS   NON  VOBIS 

There  was  a  garden  planned  in  Spring's  young 

days, 
Then  Summer  held  it  in  her  bounteous  hand. 
And  many  wandered  through  its  blooming  ways, 
But  ne'er  the  one  for  whom  the  work  was  planned. 
And  it  was  vainly  done  — 
\  For  what  are  many,  if  we  lack  the  one  ? 

There  was  a  song  that  lived  within  the  heart 
Long  time  —  and  then  on  Music's  wing  it  strayed ! 
All  sing  it  now,  all  praise  its  artless  art. 
But  ne'er  the  one  for  whom  the  song  was  made. 

And  it  was  vainly  done  — 
For  what  are  many,  if  we  lack  the  one ! 

Edith  M.  Thomas 


11 


"OH,  THE  BURDEN,  THE  BURDEN  OF 
LOVE   UNGIVEN" 

Oh,  the  burden,  the  burden  of  love  ungiven, 

The  weight  of  laughter  unshed. 
Oh,  heavy  caresses,  unblown  tendernesses, 

Oh,  love-words  unsung  and  unsaid. 

Oh,  the  burden,  the  burden  of  love  unspoken. 

The  cramp  of  silence  dlose-furled. 
To   lips  that  would   utter,  to   hands  that  would 
scatter 

Love's  seed  on  the  paths  of  the  world. 

Oh,  the  heavy  burden  of  love  ungiven : 

My  breast  doth  this  burden  bear; 
Deep  in  my  bosom  the  unblown  blossom  — 

My  world-love  that  withers  there. 

Grace  Fallow  Norton 


12 


"I  SAT  AMONG  THE  GREEN  LEAVES" 

I  SAT  among  the  green  leaves,  and  heard  the  nuts 
falling, 
The  blood-red  butterflies  were  gold  against  the 
sun, 
But  in  between  the  silence  and  the  sweet  birds  calling 
The  nuts  fell  one  by  one. 

Why  should  they  fall  and  the  year  but  half  over  ? 

Why  should  sorrow  seek  me  and  I  so  young 
and  kind  ? 
The  leaf  is  on  the  bough  and  the  dew  is  on  the  clover, 

But  the  green  nuts  are  falling  in  the  wind. 

Oh,  I  gave  my  lips  away  and  all  my  soul  behind 
them. 
Why  should  trouble  follow  and  the  quick  tears 
start? 
The  little  birds  may  love  and  fly  with  only  God 
to  mind  them. 
But  the  green  nuts  are  falling  on  my  heart, 

Marjorie  L.  C.  Pickthall 
13 


IN   THE   PARK 

He  whistled  soft  whistlings  I  knew  were  for  me, 

Teasing,  endearing. 

Won't  you  look  ?  was  what  they  said, 

But  I  did  not  turn  my  head. 

(Only  a  little  I  turned  my  hearing.) 

My  feet  took  me  by ; 

Straight  and  evenly  they  went : 

As  if  they  had  not  dreamed  what  he  meant : 

As  if  such  a  curiosity 

Never  were  known  since  the  world  began 

As  woman  wanting  man ! 

My  heart  led  me  past  and  took  me  away ; 
And  yet  it  was  my  heart  that  wanted  to  stay. 

Helen  Hoyt 


14 


THE   ENCHANTED   SHEEP-FOLD 

The  hills  far-ofF  were  blue,  blue, 

The  hills  at  hand  were  brown ; 
And  all  the  herd-bells  called  to  me 

As  I  came  by  the  down. 

The  briars  turned  to  roses  —  roses. 

Ever  we  stayed  to  pull 
A  white  little  rose,  and  a  red  little  rose. 

And  a  lock  of  silver  wool. 

Nobody  heeded,  —  none,  none ; 

And  when  True  Love  came  by. 
They  thought  him  nought  but  the  shepherd-boy. 

Nobody  knew  but  I ! 

The  trees  were  feathered  like  birds,  birds ; 

Birds  were  tn  every  tree. 
Yet  nobody  heeded,  nobody  heard. 

Nobody  knew,  save  we. 

15 


The  Answering  Voice 

And  he  is  fairer  than  all,  —  all. 

How  could  a  heart  go  wrong  ? 
For  his  eyes  I  knew,  and  his  knew  mine. 

Like  an  old,  old  song. 

Josephine  Preston  Peabody 


A  BIRTHDAY 

My  heart  is  like  a  singing  bird 

Whose  nest  is  in  a  watered  shoot : 
My  heart  is  like  an  apple  tree 

Whose  boughs  are  bent  with  thickset  fruit ; 
My  heart  is  like  a  rainbow  shell 

That  paddles  in  a  halcyon  sea; 
My  heart  is  gladder  than  all  these 

Because  my  love  is  come  to  me. 

Raise  me  a  dais  of  silk  and  down ; 

Hang  it  with  vair  and  purple  dyes ; 
Carve  it  in  doves  and  pomegranates, 

And  peacocks  with  a  hundred  €yes ; 
Work  it  in  gold  and  silver  grapes, 

In  leaves  and  silver  fleurs-de-lys ; 
Because  the  birthday  of  my  life 

Is  come,  my  love  is  come  to  me. 

Christina  Rossetti 


17 


FOUND 

Oh,  when  I  saw  your  eyes, 
So  old  it  was,  so  new,  the  hushed  surprise ; 
After  a  long,  long  search,  it  came  to  be. 

Home  folded  me. 

« 

And  looking  up,  I  saw 
The  far,  first  stars  like  tapers  to  my  awe. 
In  the  dim  hands  of  hid,  benignant  Powers, 
At  search  long  hours. 

And  did  they  hear  us  call. 
That  they  have  found  us  children  after  all  ? 
And  did  you  know,  O  Wonderful  and  Dear, 
That  I  was  here  ? 

Josephine  Preston  Peabody 


18 


\f 


I 


CHOICE 

Of  all  the  souls  that  stand  create 
I  have  elected  one. 
When  sense  from  spirit  flies  away, 
And  subterfuge  is  done ; 

When  that  which  is  and  that  which  was 

Apart,  intrinsic,  stand. 

And  this  brief  tragedy  of  flesh 

Is  shifted  like  a  sand ; 

When  figures  show  their  royal  front 
And  mists  are  carved  away,  — 
Behold  the  atom  I  preferred 
To  all  the  lists  of  clay ! 

Emily  Dickinson 


19 


"SO   BEAUTIFUL   YOU   ARE   INDEED" 

So  beautiful  you  are,  indeed, 
That  I  am  troubled  when  you  come, 
And  though  I  crave  you  for  my  need, 
Your  nearness  strikes  me  blind  and  dumb. 

And  when  you  bring  your  lips  to  mine 
My  spirit  trembles  and  escapes. 
And  you  and  I  are  turned  divine, 
Bereft  of  our  familiar  shapes. 

And  fearfully  we  tread  cold  space. 
Naked  of  flesh  and  winged  with  flame, 
...  Until  we  find  us  face  to  face. 
Each  calling  on  the  other'is  name ! 

Irene  Rutherford  McLeod 


20 


AN   INCANTATION 

O  STRONG  sun  of  heaven,  harm  not  my  love, 
Sear  him  not  with  your  flame,  blind  him  not  with 

your  beauty, 
Shine  for  his  pleasure ! 

O  gray  rains  of  heaven,  hann  not  my  love. 
Drown  not  in  your  torrent  the  song  of  his  heart, 
Lave  and  caress  him ! 

O  swift  winds  of  heaven,  harm  not  my  love, 
Bruise  not  nor  buffet  him  with  your  rough  humor. 
Sing  you  his  prowess ! 

O  mighty  triad,  strong  ones  of  heaven, 
Sun,  rain  and  wind,  be  gentle,  I  charge  you ; 
For  your  mad  mood  of  wrath  have  me,  I  am  ready — 
But  spare  him,  my  lover,  most  proud  and  most 

dear  — 
O  sun,  rain  and  wind,  strong  ones  of  heaven ! 
Marguerite  Wilkinson 

21 


V 


o 

LOVE   SONG   X 

There  is  a  strong  wall  about  me  to  protect  me : 
It  is  built  of  the  words  you  have  said  to  me. 

There  are  swords  about  me  to  keep  me  safe : 
They  are  the  kisses  of  your  lips. 

Before  me  goes  a  shield  to  guard  me  from  harm : 
It  is  the  shadow  of  your  arms  between  me  and 
danger. 

All  the  wishes  of  my  mind  know  your  name, 

And  the  white  desires  of  my  heart 

They  are  acquainted  with  you. 

The  cry  of  my  body  for  completeness, 

That  is  a  cry  to  you. 

My  blood  beats  out  your  name  to  me,  unceasing, 

pitiless  — 
Your  name,  your  name. 

Mary  Carolyn  Davies 


22 


THE   HEARTS   COUNTRY   ^ 

Hill  people  turn  to  their  hills ; 

Sea  folk  are  sick  for  the  sea : 
Thou  art  my  land  and  my  country, 

And  my  heart  calls  out  for  thee. 

The  bird  beats  his  wings  for  the  open, 
The  captive  bums  to  be  free ; 

But  I  —  I  cry  at  thy  window, 
For  thou  art  my  liberty. 

Florence  Wilkinson 


33 


RHAPSODY 

As  the  mother  bird  to  the  waiting  nest, 

As  the  regnant  moon  to  the  sea, 
As  joy  to  the  heart  that  hath  first  been  blest  — 

So  is  my  love  to  me. 

Sweet  as  the  song  of  the  lark  that  soars 

From  the  net  of  the  fowler  free, 
Sweet  as  the  morning  that  song  adores  — 

So  is  my  love  to  me ! 

As  the  rose  that  blossoms  in  matchless  grace 

Where  the  canker  may  not  be, 
As  the  well  that  springs  in  a  desert  place — 

So  is  my  love  to  me. 

Florence  Earle  Coates 


24 


"WHEN   ON   THE   MARGE   OF 
EVENING  " 

When  on  the  marge  of  evening  the  last  blue  light 
is  broken, 
And  winds  of  dreamy  odor  are  loosened  from 
afar, 
Or  when  my  lattice  opens,  before  the   lark  hath 
spoken, 
On  dim  laburnum-blossoms,  and  morning's  dy- 
ing star, 

I  think  of  thee  (oh  mine  the  more  if  other  eyes 
be  sleeping !) 
Whose    greater    noonday  splendors    the    many 
share  and  see. 
While  sacred  and  forever,  some  perfect  law  is  keep- 
ing 
The  late,  the  early  twilight,  alone  and  sweet  for 
me. 

Louise  Imogen  Guiney 


25 


"BELOVED,   MY   BELOVED,   WHEN   I 
THINK" 

Beloved,  my  beloved,  when  I  think 
That  thou  wast  in  the  world  a  year  ago. 
What  time  I  sat  alone  here  in  the  snow. 
And  saw  no  footprint,  heard  the  silence  sink 
No  moment  at  thy  voice,  but  link  by  link. 
Went  counting  all  my  chains  as  if  that  so 
They  never  could  fall  off  at  any  blow 
Struck  by  thy  possible  hand,  —  why,  thus  I  drink 
Of  life's  great  cup  of  wonder !  Wonderful, 
Never  to  feel  thee  thrill  the  day  or  night 
With  personal  act  or  speech,  nor  ever  cull 
Some  prescience  of  thee  with  the  blossoms  white 
Thou  sawest  growing !  Atheists  are  as  dull. 
Who  cannot  guess  God's  presence  out  of  sight. 
Elizabeth  Barrett  Browning 


26 


APOLOGY 

Be  not  angry  with  me  that  I  bear 
Your  colors  everywhere, 
All  through  each  crowded  street, 

And  meet 
The  wonder-light  in  every  eye, 

As  I  go  by. 

Each  plodding  wayfarer  looks  up  to  gaze. 
Blinded  by  rainbow  haze. 
The  stuff  of  happiness. 

No  less, 
Which  wraps  me  in  its  glad-hued  folds 

Of  peacock  golds. 

Before  my  feet  the  dusty,  rough-paved  way 
Flushes  beneath  its  gray. 
My  steps  fall  ringed  with  light. 

So  bright. 
It  seems  a  myriad  suns  are  strown 

About  the  town. 

27 


The  Answering  Voice 

Around  me  is  the  sound  of  steepled  bells. 
And  rich  perfumed  smells 
Hang  like  a  wind-forgotten  cloud, 

And  shroud 
Me  from  close  contact  with  the  world. 

I  dwell  impearled. 

You  blazon  me  with  jeweled  insignia. 
A  flaming  nebula 
Rims  in  my  life.    And  yet 

You  set 
The  word  upon  me,  unconfessed 
To  go  unguessed. 

Amy  Lowell 


RAIN 

I  HAVE  always  hated  the  rain, 
And  the  gloom  of  grayed  skies. 
But  now  I  think  I  must  always  cherish 
Rain-hung  leaf  and  the  misty  river ; 
And  the  friendly  screen  of  dripping  green 
Where  eager  kisses  were  shyly  given 
And  your  pipe-smoke  made  clouds  in  our  damp, 
close  heaven. 

The  curious  laggard  passed  us  by, 

His  wet  shoes  soughed  on  the  shining  walk. 

And    that    afternoon    was    filled   with    a    blurred 

glory  — 
That  afternoon,  when  we  first  talked  as  lovers. 
Jean  Starr  Untermeyer 


29 


o 


THE   NAME 


y 


I  'vE  learned  to  say  it  carelessly, 

So  no  one  else  can  see 
By  any  little  look  or  sign 

How  dear  it  is  to  me. 

But,  oh,  the  thrill,  as  though  you  kissed 

My  tingling  finger-tips 
Each  time  the  golden  syllables 

Fall  lightly  from  my  lips ! 

Williamtna  Parrish 


30 


"I   LEANED   OUT   MY  WINDOW" 

I  LEANED  out  my  window,  I   smelt  the  white 
clover. 
Dark,  dark  was  the  garden,  I  saw  not  the  gate ; 
Now,  if  there  be  footsteps,  he  comes,  my  one 
lover  — 
Hush,  nightingale,  hush !    Oh,  sweet  nightin- 
gale, wait 
Till  I  listen  and  hear 
If  a  step  draweth  near. 
For  my  love  he  is  late ! 

*'  The  skies  in  the  darkness  stoop  nearer  and  nearer, 
A  cluster  of  stars   hangs    like   fruit    in    the 
tree. 
The  fall  of  the  water  comes  sweeter,  comes  clearer : 
To  what  art  thou  listening,  and  what  dost  thou 
see  ? 
Let  the  star-clusters  grow. 
Let  the  sweet  waters  flow, 
And  cross  quickly  to  me. 

31 


The  Answering  Voice 

"  You  night  moths  that  hover  where  honey  brims 
over 
From  sycamore  blooms,  or  settle  or  sleep; 
You  glowworms,  shine  out,  and  the  pathway  dis- 
cover 
To  him  that  comes  darkling  along  the  rough 
steep. 
Ah,  my  sailor,  make  haste. 
For  the  time  runs  to  waste, 
And  my  love  lieth  deep  — 

"  Too  deep  for  swift  telling ;  and  yet,  my  one  lover, 
I  've  conned  thee  an  answer,  it  waits  thee  to- 
night." 
By  the  sycamore  passed  he,  and  through  the  white 
clover. 
Then  all  the  sweet  speech  I  had  fashioned  took 
flight; 
But  I  '11  love  him  more,  more      -^ 
Than  e'er  wife  loved  before. 
Be  the  day  dark  or  bright. 

Jean  Ingelow 


RAIN,    RAIN! 

Rain,  rain,  —  fall,  fall, 

In  a  heavy  screen  — 
That  my  lover  be  not  seen  ! 

Wind,  wind,  —  blow,  blow. 

Till  the  leaves  are  stirred  — 
That  my  lover  be  not  heard! 

Storm,  storm,  —  rage,  rage, 

Like  a  war  around  — 

That  my  lover  be  not  found ! 

.  .  .  Lark,  lark,  —  hush  .  .  .  hush  .  .  . 
Softer  music  make  — 
That  my  lover  may  not  wake.  .  .  . 

Zde  Akins 


33 


THE   HAWTHORN  TREE 

Across  the  shimmering  meadows  — 

Ah,  when  he  came  to  me! 

In  the  spring-time, 

In  the  night-time, 

In  the  starlight. 

Beneath  the  hawthorn  tree. 

Up  from  the  misty  marshland  — 
Ah,  when  he  climbed  to  me ! 
To  my  white  bower, 
To  my  sweet  rest. 
To  my  warm  breast. 
Beneath  the  hawthorn  tree. 

Ask  of  me  what  the  birds  sang, 
High  in  the  hawthorn  tree; 
What  the  breeze  tells. 
What  the  rose  smells, 
What  the  stars  shine  — 
Not  what  he  said  to  me ! 

Willa  Sibert  Gather 

34 


ECSTASY 

Cover  mine  eyes,  O  my  Love ! 

Mine  eyes  that  are  weary  of  bliss 
As  of  light  that  is  poignant  and  strong. 

Oh,  silence  my  lips  with  a  kiss, 
My  lips  that  are  weary  of  song ! 

Shelter  my  soul,  O  my  Love ! 

My  soul  is  bent  low  with  the  pain 
And  the  burden  of  love,  like  the  grace 

Of  a  flower  that  is  smitten  with  rain; 
Oh,  shelter  my  soul  from  thy  face ! 

Sarojim  Naidu 


35 


THE   MAN   WITH   A   HAMMER 

My  Dear  was  a  mason 

And  I  was  his  stone. 
And  quick  did  he  fashion 

A  house  of  his  own. 

As  fish  in  the  waters, 

As  birds  in  a  tree, 
So  natural  and  blithe  lives 

His  spirit  in  me. 

Anna  Wickham 


36 


y 

THE   GREAT   MAN 

I  CANNOT  always  feel  his  greatness. 

Sometimes  he  walks  beside  me,  step  by  step, 

And  paces  slowly  in  the  ways  — 

The  simple,  wingless  ways 

That  my  thoughts  tread.    He  gossips  with  me 

then. 
And  finds  it  good; 
Not  as  an  eagle  might,  his  great  wings  folded, 

be  content 
To  walk  a  little,  knowing  it  his  choice. 
But  as  a  simple  man. 
My  friend. 
And  I  forget. 

Then  suddenly  a  call  floats  down 

From  the  clear  airy  spaces. 

The  great  keen,  lonely  heights  of  being. 

And  he  who  was  my  comrade  hears  the  call 

And  rises  from  my  side,  and  soars. 

Deep-chanting,  to  the  heights. 

37 


The  Answering  Voice 

Then  I  remember. 

4 

And  my  upward  gaze  goes  with  him,  and  I  see 

Far  off  against  the  sky 

The  glint  of  golden  sunlight  on  his  wings. 

Eunice  Tietjens 


I   KNOW       \y^ 


Oh  !  I  know  why  the  alder  trees 
Lean  over  the  reflecting  stream; 

And  I  know  what  the  wandering  bees 
Heard  in  the  woods  of  dream. 

I  know  how  the  uneasy  tide 

Answers  the  signal  of  the  moon, 

And  why  the  morning-glories  hide 
Their  eyes  in  the  forenoon. 

And  I  know  all  the  wild  delight 

That  quivers  in  the  sea-bird's  wings, 

For  in  one  little  hour  last  night 
Love  told  me  all  these  things. 

Elsa  Barker 


39 


REST 

As  a  little  child  I  come     ^  ^ 

To  be  gathered  to  your  breast 
So  tired  that  my  lips  are  dumb, 
So  sad  that  my  warm  heart  is  numb : 
Beloved,  let  me  rest. 

Oh,  how  all  the  noises  die, 
All  the  cruel  voices  cease, 
I  can  sleep  when  you  are  by, 
And  I  am  too  faint  to  cry : 
Here  at  last  is  peace. 

Hold  me,  nurse  me,  love  me  .   .   .  so  .  .  , 
Almost  I  could  learn  to  weep ! 
Hush,  I  feel  my  spirit  grow  .   .  . 
When  you  tire  ...  let  me  go  .  .  . 
I  shall  be  .  .   .  asleep. 

Irene  Rutherford  McLeod 


40 


"IF   THOU   MUST  LOVE   ME,   LET  IT 
BE   FOR   NOUGHT  ";u 

If  thou  must  love  me,  let  it  be  for  nought 
Except  for  love's  sake  only.    Do  not  say, 
"  I  love  her  for  her  smile,  her  look,  her  way 
Of  speaking  gently,  for  a  trick  of  thought 
That  falls  in  well  with  mine,  and  certes  brought 
A  sense  of  pleasant  ease  on  such  a  day  " ; 
For  these  things  in  themselves,  beloved,  may 
Be  changed,  or  change  for  thee :  and  love  so  wrought 
May  be  unwrought  so.    Neither,  loye  .me  for 
Thine  own  dear  pity Vwiping  my  cheeks  dry : 
A  creature  might  forget  to  weep,  who  bore 
Thy  comfort  long,  and  lose  thy  love  thereby. 
But  love  me  for  love's  sake,  that  evermore 
Thou  mayst  love  on  through  love's  eternity. 

Elizabeth  Barrett  Browning 


41 


THE   TIRED   WOMAN 

0  MY  Lover,  blind  me, 
Take  your  cords  and  bind  me, 
Then  drive  me  through  a  silent  land. 
With  the  compelling  of  your  open  hand ! 

There  is  too  much  of  sound,  too  much  for  sight. 
In  thunderous  lightnings  of  this  night,^ 
There  is  too  much  of  freedom  for  my  feet. 
Bruised  by  the  stones  of  this  disordered  street. 

1  know  that  there  is  sweetest  rest  for  me, 
In  silent  fields,  and  in  captivity. 

O  Lover!  drive  me  through  a  stilly  land. 
With  the  compelling  of  your  open  hand. 

Antia  Wickham 


42 


"HOW   DO   I   LOVE   THEE?" 

How  do  I  love  thee  ?    Let  me  count  the  ways. 

I  love  thee  to  the  depth  and  breadth  and  height 

My  soul  can  reach,  when  feeling  out  of  sight 

For  the  ends  of  being  and  ideal  grace. 

I  love  thee  to  the  level  of  every  day's 

Most  quiet  need,  by  sun  and  candle-light. 

I  love  thee  freely,  as  men  strive  for  right. 

I  love  thee  purely,  as  they  turn  from  praise. 

I  love  thee  with  the  passion  put  to  use 

In  my  old  griefs,  and  with  my  childhood's  faith. 

I  love  thee  with  a  love  I  seemed  to  lose 

With  my  lost  saints.    I  love  thee  with  the  breath. 

Smiles,  tears,  of  all  my  life ;  and,  if  God  choose, 

I  shall  but  love  thee  better  after  death. 

Elizabeth  Barrett  Browning 


43 


c 


THE  TAXI 


When  I  go  away  from  you 
The  world  beats  dead 
Like  a  slackened  drum. 
I  call  out  for  you  against  the  jutted  stars 
And  shout  into  the  ridges  of  the  wind. 
Streets  coming  fast, 
One  after  the  other, 
Wedge  you  away  from  me, 
And  the  lamps  of  the  city  prick  my  eyes 
So  that  I  can  no  longer  see  your  face. 
Why  should  I  leave  you, 

To  wound  myself  upon  the  sharp  edges  of  the  night  ? 

Amy  Lowell 


44 


"YOU   SAY  THERE   IS   NO   LOVE" 

You  say  there  is  no  love,  my  love, 

Unless  it  lasts  for  aye ! 
Oh,  folly,  there  are  interludes 

Better  than  the  play. 

You  say  lest  it  endure,  sweet  love. 

It  is  not  love  for  aye  ? 
Oh,  blind!    Eternity  can  be 

All  in  one  little  day. 

Grace  Fallow  Norton 


45 


DEBTS     J 

My  debt  to  you,  Beloved, 

Is  one  I  cannot  pay 
In  any  coin  of  any  realm 

On  any  reckoning  day; 

For  where  is  he  shall  figure 

The  debt,  when  all  is  said, 
To  one  who  makes  you  dream  again 

When  all  the  dreams  were  dead  ? 

Or  where  is  the  appraiser 

Who  shall  the  claim  compute 

Of  one  who  makes  you  sing  again 
When  all  the  songs  were  mute  ? 

JesAe  B.  Rittenhouse 


46 


A   WOMAN'S   QUESTION  \ 

Before  I  trust  my  fate  to  thee, 

Or  place  my  hand  in  thine, 
Before  I  let  thy  future  give 

Color  and  form  to  mine,  — 
Before  I  peril  all  for  thee,  question  thy  soul 
to-night,  for  me. 

I  break  all  slighter  bonds,  nor  feel 

One  shadow  of  regret : 
Is  there  one  link  within  the  past 

That  holds  thy  spirit  yet  ? 
Or  is  thy  faith  as  clear  and  free  as  that  which 
I  can  pledge  to  thee  ?  .  .  . 

Is  there  within  thy  heart  a  need 

That  mine  cannot  fulfill  ? 
One  chord  that  any  other  hand 

Could  better  wake  or  still  ? 
Speak  now,  lest  at  some  future  day,  my  whole 
life  wither  and  decay.  .  .  . 

47 


The  Answering  Voice 

Couldst  thou  withdraw  thy  hand  one  day, 

i\nd  answer  to  my  claim 
That  fate,  and  that  to-day's  mistake, 

Not  thou,  had  been  to  blame  ? 
Some  soothe  their  conscience  thus;  but  thou  —  oh, 
surely  thou  wilt  warn  me  now! 

Adelaide  Anne  Procter 


COMRADES 

You  need  not  say  one  word  to  me,  as  up  the  hill 

we  go 
(Night-time,  white-time,    all    in    the   whispering 

snow) ; 
You  need  not  say  one  word  to  me,  although  the 

whispering  trees 
Seem  strange  and  old  as  pagan  priests  in  swaying 

mysteries. 

You  need  not  think  one  thought  of  me,  as  up  the 

trail  we  go 
(Hill-trail,  still-trail,  all  in  the  hiding  snow) ; 
You  need  not  think  one  thought  of  me,  although  a 

hare  runs  by. 
And  off  behind  the  tumbled  cairn  we  hear  a  red  fox 

cry. 

Oh,  good  and  rare  it  is  to  feel,  as  through  the 

night  we  go 
(Wild-wise,  child-wise,  all  in  the  secret  snow), 

49 


The  Answering  Voice 

That  we  are  free  of  heart  and  foot  as  hare  and  fox 

are  free, 
And  yet  that  I  am  glad  of  you,  and  you  are  glad 

of  me! 

Fannie  Stearns  Davis 


IN   DEEP   PLACES 

I  LOVE  thee,  dear,  and  knowing  mine  own  heart 
With  every  beat  I  give  God  thanks  for  this; 
I  love  thee  only  for  the  self  thou  art ; 
No  wild  embrace,  no  wisdom-shaking  kiss. 
No  passionate  pleading  of  a  heart  laid  bare, 
No  urgent  cry  of  love's  extremity  — 
Strong  traps  to  take  the  spirit  unaware  — 
Not  one  of  these  I  ever  had  of  thee. 
Neither  of  passion  nor  of  pity  wrought 
Is  this,  the  love  to  which  at  last  I  yield, 
But  shapen  in  the  stillness  of  my  thought 
And  by  a  birth  of  agony  revealed. 
Here  is  a  thing  to  live  while  we  do  live 
Which  honors  tliee  to  take  and  me  to  give. 
Amelia  Josephine  Burr 


51 


THAT   DAY  YOU   CAME 

Such  special  sweetness  was  about 
That  day  God  sent  you  here, 

I  knew  the  lavender  was  out, 
And  it  was  mid  of  year. 

Their  common  way  the  great  winds  blew. 

The  ships  sailed  out  to  sea ; 
Yet  ere  that  day  was  spent  I  knew 

Mine  own  had  come  to  me. 

As  after  song  some  snatch  of  tune 
Lurks  still  in  grass  or  bough, 

So,  somewhat  of  the  end  o'  June 
Lurks  in  each  weather  now. 

The  young  year  sets  the  buds  astir. 
The  old  year  strips  the  trees ; 

But  ever  in  my  lavender 
I  hear  the  brawling  bees. 

Lizette  Woodworth  Reese 

52 


o 


PARTING 

My  life  closed  twice  before  its  close; 

It  yet  remains  to  see 
If  Immortality  unveil 

A  third  event  to  me. 

So  huge,  so  hopeless  to  conceive, 

As  these  that  twice  befell ; 
Parting  is  all  we  know  of  heaven, 

And  all  we  need  of  hell. 

Emily  Dickinson 


53 


AN  OLD   SONG 

And  if  I  came  not  again 
After  certain  days ; 
If  no  morning  sun  or  rain 
Met  me  on  their  ways ; 

If  the  meadows  knew  no  more 
How  my  feet  go  free, 
And  the  folded  hills  forbore 
Any  speech  of  me ; 

If  you  did  not  find  me  here, 
At  the  door  at  night. 
And  the  cold  hearth  kept  no  cheer, 
And  the  panes  no  light ;  — 

Oh,  if  I  came  not  again, 
Would  you  miss  me  much  ? 
Would  your  fingers  once  be  fain 
Of  my  wandering  touch  ? 

54 


An  Old  Song 

Would  you  dream  me  at  your  side 
In  the  waking  wood, 
Where  the  old  spring  hungers  hide 
In  blue  solitude  ? 

Would  you  wonder  where  I  passed, 
Into  joy  or  pain  ? 
Oh,  to  know  you  cared,  at  last. 
Came  I  not  again ! 

Fannie  Stearns  Davis 


I  WILL   NOT   GIVE   THEE   ALL   MY 
HEART" 

I  WILL  not  give  thee  all  my  heart 

For  that  I  need  a  place  apart 

To  dream  my  dreams  in,  and  I  know 

Few  sheltered  ways  for  dreams  to  go : 

But  when  I  shut  the  door  upon 

Some  secret  wonder  —  still,  withdrawn  — 

Why  dost  thou  love  me  even  more, 

And  hold  me  closer  than  before? 

When  I  of  Love  demand  the  least. 
Thou  biddest  him  to  fire  and  feast : 
When  I  am  hungry  and  would  eat, 
There  is  no  bread,  though  crusts  were  sweet. 
If  I  with  manna  may  be  fed. 
Shall  I  go  all  uncomforted  ? 
Nay !  Howsoever  dear  thou  art, 
I  will  not  give  thee  all  my  heart. 

Grace  Hazard  Coniiing' 


56 


GIFTS 

You  ask  me  what  —  since  we  must  part —    X 

You  shall  bring  back  to  me. 
Bring  back  a  pure  and  faithful  heart 

As  true  as  mine  to  thee. 

You  talk  of  gems  from  foreign  lands, 

Of  treasure,  spoil,  and  prize. 
Ah  love!   I  ^^11  not  search  yourjiands 

But  look  into  your^yes. 

Juliana  Horatia  Exving 


57 


MENACE 

/ 

I  CAME  into  your  room  and  spoke. 

Sudden  I  knew  you  were  not  there. 
The  easy,  common  sentence  broke 

Against  the  unanswering  air. 

My  heart  shook  like  a  frightened  bird, 
And  to  my  ear  the  terror  said. 

Where  nothing  spoke  and  nothing  stirred,  - 
Dear  God^  if  he  -were  dead  I 

I  heard  your  footstep  in  the  house. 

Your  voice  brought  comfort  to  my  fear. 

But,  fluttering  like  a  frightened  mouse. 
My  heart  beat  at  my  ear. 

The  room  wore  its  familiar  face ; 

On  the  warm  hearth  spirted  the  flame. 
Yet  —  menace  of  an  empty  place  — 

Lord^  if  he  never  came  I 

Katharine  Tynan 

58 


% 


LOVE   SONG 

I  LOVE  my  life,  but  not  too  well 
To  give  it  to  thee  like  a  flower, 

So  it  may  pleasure  thee  to  dwell 
Deep  in  its  perfume  but  an  hour. 

I  love  my  life,  but  not  too  well. 

I  love  my  life,  but  not  too  well 
To  sing  it  note  by  note  away. 

So  to  thy  soul  the  song  may  tell 
The  beauty  of  the  desolate  day. 

I  love  my  life,  but  not  too  well. 

I  love  my  life,  but  not  too  well 
To  cast  it  like  a  cloak  on  thine, 

Against  the  storms  that  sound  and  swell 
Between  thy  lonely  heart  and  mine. 

I  love  my  life,  but  not  too  well. 

Harriet  Monroe 


59 


POSSESSION 

Walk  into  the  world, 

Go  into  the  places  of  trade ; 

Go  into  the  smiling  country  — 

But  go,  clad,  wrapped  closely  always, 

Shielded  and  sustained. 

In  the  visible  flame  of  my  love. 

Let  it  blaze  about  you  — 
A  glowing  armor  for  all  to  see ; 
Flashing  around  your  head  — 
A  tender  and  valiant  halo. 

I  think  there  will  be  many  to  wonder 
And  many  to  stand  in  awe  and  envy  — 
But  surely  no  one  will  come  too  close  to  you. 
No  one  will  dare  to  claim  you,  — 
Hand  or  heart,  — 

As  you  pass  in  your  shining  and  terrible  garment. 
Jean  Starr  Untermeyer 


60 


OR  ONE  ROUNDED  MOMENT" 


Yet  for  one  rounded  moment  I  will  be 

No  more  to  you  than  what  my  lips  may  give, 

And  in  the  circle  of  your  kisses  live 

As  in  some  island  of  a  storm-blown  sea. 

Where  the  cold  surges  of  infinity 

Upon  the  outward  reefs  unheeded  grieve, 

And  the  loud  murmur  of  our  blood  shall  weave 

Primeval  silences  round  you  and  me. 

If  in  that  moment  we  are  all  we  are, 

We  live  enough.  Let  this  for  all  requite. 

Do  I  not  know,  some  winged  things  from  far 

Are  borne  along  illimitable  night 

To  dance  their  lives  out  in  a  single  flight 

Between  the  moonrise  and  the  setting  star  ? 

Edith  Whaj-ton 


61 


INSUFFICIENCY    ^ 

I 

There  is  no  one  beside  thee,  and  no  one  above  thee  j 
Thou  standest  alone,  as  the  nightingale  sings ! 
And  my  words  that  would  praise  thee  are  im- 
potent things. 
For  none  can  express  thee,  though  all  should  ap- 
prove thee. 
I  love  thee  so,  dear,  that  I  only  can  love  thee. 

n 
Say,  what  can  I  do  for  thee  ?  Weary  thee,  grieve 
thee? 
Lean  on  thy  shoulder,  new  burdens  to  add  ? 
Weep  my  tears  over  thee,  making  thee  sad  ? 
Oh,  hold  me  not,  love  me  not !  let  me  retrieve  thee. 
I  love  thee  so,  dear,  that  I  only  can  leave  thee. 
Elizabeth  Barrett  Browning- 


62 


"I   MUST   NOT  YIELD" 

I  MUST  not  yield  .  .  .  but  if  he  would  not  sing ! 

My  stilling  hands  upon  my  breast  can  feel 
Its  answer  tremble  like  a  muted  string. 

Below  the  vaulted  window  where  I  kneel 

He  snngs,  he  sings,  to  stars  and  listening  skies. 

A  white  and  haunted  place  my  garden  seems. — 
I  see  the  pleading  beauty  of  his  eyes 

As  faces  glimmer  in  a  pool  of  dreams. 

So  wooing  wind  might  sweep  a  harp  awake. 

(Oh,  muting  fingers  on  each  quivering  string !) 
I  must  not  yield  ...  I  think  my  heart  will  break. 

Mother  of  Heaven,  if  he  would  not  sing ! 

Nora  May  French 


63 


o 

"GO   FROM   ME" 

Go  from  me.  Yet  I  feel  that  I  shall  stand 
Henceforward  in  thy  shadow.  Nevermore 
Alone  upon  the  threshold  of  my  door 
Of  individual  life,  I  shall  command 
The  uses  of  my  soul,  nor  lift  my  hand 
Serenely  in  the  sunshine  as  before, 
Without  the  sense  of  that  which  I  forbore,  — 
Thy  touch  upon  the  palm.  The  widest  land 
Doom  takes  to  part  us  leaves  thy  heart  in  mine 
With  pulses  that  beat  double.  What  I  do 
And  what  I  dream  include  thee,  as  the  wine 
Must  taste  of  its  own  grapes.  And,  when  I  sue 
God  for  myself,  he  hears  that  name  of  thine. 
And  sees  within  my  eyes  the  tears  of  two. 

Elizabeth  Barrett  Browning 


64 


RENOUNCEMENT 

I  MUST  not  think  of  thee ;  and,  tired  yet  strong, 
I  shun  the  thought  that  lurks  in  all  delight  — 
The  thought  of  thee  —  and  in  the  blue  Heaven's 
height, 

And  in  the  sweetest  passage  of  a  song. 

Oh,  just  beyond  the  fairest  thoughts  that  throng 
This  breast,  the  thought  of  thee  waits,  hidden 

yet  bright ; 
But  it  must  never,  never  come  in  sight ; 

I  must  stop  short  of  thee  the  whole  day  long. 

But  when  sleep  comes  to  close  each  difficult  day. 
When  night  gives  pause  to  the  long  watch  I  keep. 
And  all  my  bonds  I  needs  must  loose  apart, 

Must  doff  my  will  as  raiment  laid  away,  — 

With  the  first  dream  that  comes  with  the  first  sleep 
I  run,  I  run,  I  am  gathered  to  thy  heart. 

Alice  Meynell 

65 


A   FAREWELL 

Good-bye  !  —  no,  do  not  grieve  that  it  is  over, 

The  perfect  hour; 
That  the  winged  joy,  sweet  honey-loving  rover, 

Flits  from  the  flower. 

Grieve  not  —  it  is  the  law.  Love  will  be  flying - 

Yes,  love  and  all. 
Glad  was  the  living  —  blessed  be  the  dying. 

Let  the  leaves  fall. 

Harriet  Manroe 


66 


LOVE'S   CHANGE     • 

I  WENT  to  dig  a  grave  for  Love, 
But  the  earth  was  so  stiff  and  cold 

That,  though  I  strove  through  the  bitter  night, 
I  could  not  break  the  mould. 

And  I  said :  *'  Must  he  lie  in  my  house  in  state. 

And  stay  in  his  wonted  place  ? 
Must  I  have  him  with  me  another  day. 

With  that  awful  change  in  his  face  ?  " 

Anne  Reeve  Aldrich 


67 


WHEN  PLAINTIVELY   AND  NEAR  THE 
CRICKET  SINGS 

Now  evening  comes.    Now  stirs  my  discontent ,  .  . 
Oh,  ache  of  smallest,  iinforgotten  things ! 

How  sharp  you  are  when  day  and  dark  are  blent. 
When  beetles  hurry  by  with  vibrant  wings, 
And  plaintively  and  near  the  cricket  sings. 

The  sighing  garden  calls  me  from  the  door  j 
Above  the  hills  a  little  crescent  swings  — 

Above  the  path  where  you  will  come  no  more 
When  beetles  huny  by  on  vibrant  wings. 
And  plaintively  and  near  the  cricket  sings. 

Nora  May  French 


68 


"COME   BACK   TO   ME" 

Come  back  to  me,  who  wait  and  watch  for  you :  — 
Or  come  not  yet,  for  it  is  over  then, 
And  long  it  is  before  you  come  again, 

So  far  between  my  pleasures  are  and  few. 

While,  when  you  come  not,  what  I  do  I  do 

Thinking,  "  Now  when  he  comes,"  my  sweetest 

"when": 
For  one  man  is  my  world  of  all  the  men 

This  wide  world  holds;  O  love,  my  world  is  you. 

Howbeit,  to  meet  you  grows  almost  a  pang 
Because  the  pang  of  parting  comes  so  soon ; 
My  hope  hangs  waning,  waxing,  like  a  moon 
Between  the  heavenly  days  on  which  we  meet : 

Ah  me,  but  where  are  now  the  songs  I  sang 

When  life  was  sweet  because  you  called  them 
sweet? 

Christina  Rossetti 


69 


0 

ASHES   OF    LIFE^ 

Love  has  gone  and  left  me  and  the  days  are  all 
alike ; 
Eat  I  must,  and  sleep  I  will,  —  and  would  that 
night  were  here ! 
But  ah !  —  to  lie  awake  and  hear  the  slow  hours 
strike ! 
Would  that  it  were  day  again !  —  with  twilight 
near! 

Love  has  gone  and  left  me  and  I  don't  know  what 
to  do; 
This  or  that  or  what  you  will  is  all  the  same  to 
me; 
But  all  the  things  that  I  begin  I  leave  before  I  'm 
through,  — 
There's  little  use  in  anything  as  far  as  I  can 
see. 

Love  has  gone  and  left  me,  and  the  neighbors  knock 
and  borrow, 

70 


Ashes  of  Life 

And  life  goes  on  forever  like  the  gnawing  of  a 
mouse,  — 
And  to-morrow  and  to-morrow  and   to-morrow 
and  to-morrow 
There 's  this  little  street  and  this  little  house. 
Edna  St.  Vincent  Mtllay 


THE   CYNIC 

I  SAY  it  to  comfort  me  over  and  over, 
Having  a  querulous  heart  to  beguile, 

Never  had  woman  a  tenderer  lover  — 
For  a  little  while. 

Oh,  there  never  were  eyes  more  eager  to  read  her 
In  her  saddest  mood  or  her  moments  gay, 

Oh,  there  never  were  hands  more  strong  to  lead 
her  — 
For  a  little  way. 

There  never  were  loftier  promises  given 

Of  love  that  should  guard  her  the  ages  through, 

As  great,  enduring  and  steadfast  as  Heaven  — 
For  a  week  or  two. 

Well,  end  as  it  does,  I  have  had  it,  known  it. 
For  this  ^all  I  turn  me  to  weep  or  pray  ? 

Nay,  rather  I  laugh  that  I  thought  to  own  it 
For  more  than  a  day. 

ITieodosia  Garrison 

72 


SEA   SONG 

Against  the  planks  of  the  cabin  side 

(So  slight  a  thing  between  them  and  me), 

The   great    waves   thundered    and    throbbed    and 
sighed, 
The  great  green  waves  of  the  Indian  Sea ! 

Your  face  was  white  as  the  foam  is  white, 

Your  hair  was  curled  as  the  waves  are  curled, 

I  would  we  had  steamed  and  reached  that  night 
The  sea's  last  edge,  the  end  of  the  world. 

The  wind  blew  in  through  the  open  port. 
So  freshly  joyous  and  salt  and  free, 

Your  hair  it  lifted,  your  lips  it  sought. 
And  then  swept  back  to  the  open  sea. 

The  engines  throbbed  with  their  constant  beat; 

Your  heart  was  nearer,  and  all  I  heard; 
Your  lips  were  salt,  but  I  found  them  sweet, 

While,  acquiescent,  you  spoke  no  word. 


The  Answering  Voice 

So  straight  you  lay  in  your  narrow  berth, 
Rocked  by  the  waves ;  and  you  seemed  to  be 

Essence  of  all  that  is  sweet  on  earth, 
Of  all  that  is  sad  and  strange  at  sea. 

And  you  were  white  as  the  foam  is  white, 
Your  hair  was  curled  as  the  waves  are  curled. 

Ah !  had  we  but  sailed  and  reached  that  night, 
The  sea's  last  edge,  the  end  of  the  world ! 

Laurence  Hope 


RISPETTO 
I 

What  good  is  there,  ah  me,  what  good  in  Love  ? 

Since,  even  if  you  love  me,  we  must  part ; 
And  since  for  either,  an'  you  cared  enough. 

There 's  but  division  and  a  broken  heart  ? 

And  yet,  God  knows,  to  hear  you  say :  My  Dear ! 
I  would  lie  down  and  stretch  me  on  the  bier. 
And  yet  would  I,  to  hear  you  say :  My  Own ! 
With  mine  own  hands  drag  down  the  burial  stone. 

A.  Mary  F.  Robinson 


75 


0 


RISPETTO 
II 

Let  us  forget  we  loved  each  other  much, 
Let  us  forget  we  ever  have  to  part, 

Let  us  forget  that  any  look  or  touch 
Once  let  in  either  to  the  other's  heart. 

Only  we  '11  sit  upon  the  daisied  grass 
And  hear  the  larks  and  see  the  swallows  pass; 
Only  we  '11  live  awhile,  as  children  play. 
Without  to-morrow,  without  yesterday. 

A.  Mary  F.  Robinson 


76 


RISPETTO 

III 

Ah,  Love,  I  cannot  die,  I  cannot  go 

Down  in  the  dark  and  leave  you  all  alone. 

Ah,  hold  me  fast,  safe  in  the  warmth  I  know. 
And  never  shut  me  underneath  a  stone. 

Dead  in  the  grave !  And  I  can  never  hear 
If  you  are  ill,  or  if  you  miss  me,  dear, 
Dead,  oh,  my  God !  and  you  may  need  me  yet. 
While  I  shall  sleep,  while  I  —  while  I  —  forget ! 
A.  Mary  F.  RobiriHon 


77 


"MANY  IN   AFTERTIMES   WILL   SAY" 

Many  in  aftertimes  will  say  of  you, 

"  He  loved  her"  —  while  of  me  what  will  they 
say? 

Not  that  1  loved  you  more  than  just  in  play. 
For  fashion's  sake  as  idle  women  do. 
Even  let  them  prate ;  who  know  not  what  we  knew 

Of  love  and  parting  in  exceeding  pain, 

Of  parting  hopeless  here  to  meet  again, 
Hopeless  on  earth,  and  heaven  is  out  of  view. 
But  by  my  heart  of  love  laid  bare  to  you. 

My  love  that  you  can  make  not  void  nor  vain. 
Love  that  foregoes  you  but  to  claim  anew 
Beyond  this  passage  of  the  gate  of  death, 

I  charge  you  at  the  Judgment  make  it  plain 
My  love  of  you  was  life  and  not  a  breath. 

Christina  Rossetti 


78 


0 


"WHEN   WE   SHALL   BE   DUST" 

When  we  shall  be  dust  in  the  churchyard  — 
In  twenty  years  —  in  fifty  years  — 

Who  will  remember  you  kissed  me  once, 
Who  will  be  grieved  ft)r  our  tears  ? 

The  locust  tree  will  have  grown  taller, 
The  old  walks  will  be  covered  with  grass, 

And  past  our  quiet  graves  go  straying 
A  youth  with  his  arm  round  his  lass. 

And  the  bee  that  shall  suck  your  grave  flowers  — 

Anemone,  stock,  columbine. 
May  pause  in  his  swift  homing  journey 

To  taste  of  the  honey  from  mine. 

Muna  Lee 


79 


y    I   AM   THE   WIND      ^ 

I  AM  the  wind  that  wavers, 
You  are  the  certain  land ; 

I  am  the  shadow  that  passes 
Over  the  sand. 

I  am  the  leaf  that  quivers, 
You  —  the  unshaken  tree ; 

You  are  the  stars  that  are  steadfast, 
I  am  the  sea. 

You  are  the  light  eternal, 
Like  a  torch  I  shall  die.  .  .  . 

You  are  the  surge  of  deep  music, 
I  —  but  a  cry  ! 

Zoi  Akins 


80 


SERVICE 

If  I  could  only  serve  him, 

How  sweet  this  life  would  be. 

Last  night  I  dreamed  my  darling, 
Alive,  returned  to  me. 

I  brought  him  from  the  cupboard 
The  things  he  liked  to  eat,  — 

The  little  piece  of  honey. 

The  rye  bread  and  the  meat. 

I  sang  the  song  he  asked  for 
The  night  he  went  away. 

How  was  it,  when  I  loved  him, 
I  could  have  said  him  nay ! 

I  took  the  time  to  please  him, 
With  a  hand  upon  his  brow. 

Amid  the  awful  leisure 
There  was  no  hurry  now. 

81 


The  Answering  Voice 

How  strange  I  once  denied  him 

What  took  so  little  while. 
A  kiss  would  seem  so  simple. 

So  slight  a  thing  a  smile. 

With  pleased  sweet  looks  of  wonder 
He  took  what  I  could  give,  — 

Such  words  as  we  deny  them 
Only  because  they  live. 

The  pale  light  of  the  morning 

Shone  in  upon  the  wall. 
Come  back  to  me,  my  darling, 

And  I  will  give  you  all. 

Anna  Hempstead  Branch 


0 


PARTING    ^ 

Dear  Love,  it  was  so  hard  to  say 

Good-bye  to-day ! 
You  turned  to  go,  yet  going  turned  to  stay ! 
Till  suddenly  at  last  you  went  away. 

Then  all  at  last  I  found  my  love  unsaid, 

And  bowed  my  head; 
And  went  in  tears  up  to  my  lonely  bed  — 
Oh,  would  it  be  like  this  if  you  were  dead  ? 
Alice  Freeman  Palmer 


83 


FRIENDSHIP   AFTER   LOV 


V 


After  the  fierce  midsummer  all  ablaze 
Has  burned  itself  to  ashes,  and  expires 
In  the  intensity  of  its  own  fires, 

There  come  the  mellow,  mild,  St.  Martin  days 

Crowned  with  the  calm  of  peace,  but  sad  with  haze ; 
So  after  Love  has  led  us,  till  he  tires 
Of  his  own  throes,  and  torments,  and  desires 

Comes  large-eyed  friendship ;  with  a  restful  gaze, 

He  beckons  us  to  follow,  and  across 

Cool,  verdant  vales  we  wander  free  from  care  — 
Is  it  a  touch  of  frost  lies  in  the  air  ? 

Why  are  we  haunted  with  a  sense  of  loss  ? 

We  do  not  wish  the  pain  back,  or  the  heat; 

And  yet,  and  yet,  these  days  are  incomplete. 

Ella  Wheeler  Wilbox 


84 


THE   MESSAGE 

'*  Oh,  have  you  not  a  message,  you  who  come  over 

the  sea  ? 
Have  you  not  a  message  or  word  at  all  for  me  ? " 

I  have  sailed,  sailed,  sailed  where  the  seas  are 
green  and  blue, 
I've  silver,  gold  and  merchandise — but  never  a 
word  for  you." 

**  But  did  you  see  my  love  by  any  way  you  came  ? 
For  if  you  saw  my  love,  he  must  have  spoke  my 
name." 

**  Oh,  yes,  I  saw  your  love — oh,  yes,  and  he  was  gay 
Riding  in  his  coach-and-six  all  on  his  birthday." 

*'But  when  you  spoke  of  me,  of  me — oh!  what 

was  it  he  said  ? " 
*'  Oh,  he  never  said  a  word  at  all,  but  turned  away 

his  head." 

Margaret  Sackville 

85 


THE  OTHER 

I  AM  the  Other  —  I  who  come 

To  heal  the  wound  she  gave, 
The  wound  that  struck  your  fond  words  dumb. 

And  left  your  world  a  grave. 

What  though  you  loved  her  —  I  love  you, 

And  so  the  most  is  said, 
Here  is  my  yearning  heart,  still  true 

To  yours  her  frailty  bled. 

(But  oh !  the  bitter  grief  that  I 

Kept  hushed,  the  wild  despair. 
When  your  dear  eyes  had  passed  me  by 

To  find  her  face  so  fair.) 

Now  she  hath  gone  her  cruel  way. 

And  I  am  come  again, 
To  seek  among  the  husks  to-day, 

For  one  sweet  golden  grain. 

86 


The  Other 

Because  in  me  Love's  strength  is  great, 

Too  great  for  pride,  or  sin, 
I  knock  upon  your  heart's  barred  gate. 

And  pray  you  let  me  in. 

Ethna  Carbery 


o 


THE  RAINBOW 

Whose  doorway  was  it,  in  the  sordid  street, 
That  gave  us  shelter  from  the  sudden  rain,  — 

Two  vagrant  sparrows  on  a  dripping  branch, 
Waiting  a  moment  to  spread  wing  again  ? 

The  beggar  children  danced  through  pavement  pools 
Barefoot  and  joyous,  splashing  at  their  will; 

The  rain  washed  green  that  dusty  sycamore 

And  straws  swirled  wildly  down  the  gutter's  rill. 

Fast-breathing  from  the  run,  our  hands  still  clasped. 
We  leaned  out  laughing,  shaking  free  our  hair 

Of  dewy  drops,  while  still  the  clouds  poured  down 
A  freshness  that  made  heavenly  the  air. 

Then  we  both  saw,  above  the  sodden  world, 
The  Rainbow  like  a  miracle  appear. 

And  you  said,  whispering,  "  Oh,  kiss  me  once 
Before  it  fades !  "  —  "  Kiss   me  then  quickly, 
Dear!" 

88 


The  Rainbow 

One  warm  sweet  touch  of  lips  —  then  forth  we 
went 
Oblivious  of  all  the  rain  and  wet. 
To-day  I  saw  a  rainbow  after  rain.   .  .   . 

My  heart  remembered  then —  does  yours  forget  ? 

Vine  Colby 


LOVE  CAME  BACK  AT  FALL 
O'  DEW 

Love  came  back  at  fall  o'  dew, 
Playing  his  old  part ; 
But  I  had  a  word  or  two 
That  would  break  his  heart. 

*'  He  who  comes  at  candle-light, 
That  should  come  before, 
Must  betake  him  to  the  night 
From  a  barred  door." 

This  the  word  that  made  us  part 
In  the  fall  o'  dew ; 

This  the  word  that  brake  his  heart  — 
Yet  it  brake  mine,  too. 

Lizette  Woodworth  Reese 


9o 


^    FROM   A  CAR-WINDOW 

Pines,  and  a  blur  of  lithe  young  grasses  ; 

Gold  in  a  pool,  from  the  western  glow ; 
Spread  of  wings  where  the  last  thrush  passes — 

And  thoughts  of  you  as  the  sun  dips  low. 

Quiet  lane,  and  an  irised  meadow  .  .  . 

{How  many  summers  have  died  since  then?) .  .  . 
I  wish  you  knew  how  the  deepening  shadow 

Lies  on  the  blue  and  green  again ! 

Dusk,  and  the  curve  of  field  and  hollow 
Etched  in  gray  when  a  star  appears : 

Sunset, .  .  .  twilight,.  .  .  and  dark  to  follow, .  .  . 
And  thoughts  of  you  through  a  mist  of  tears. 
Ruth  Guthrie  Harding 


91 


THE   SILLER   CROWN 

'  And  ye  sail  walk  in  silk  attire, 

And  siller  hae  to  spare, 
Gin  ye  '11  consent  to  be  his  bride, 
Nor  think  o'  Donald  mair." 

O,  wha  wad  buy  a  silken  gown 

Wi'  a  puir  broken  heart  ? 
Or  what 's  to  me  a  siller  crown 

Gin  frae  my  love  I  part  ? 

The  mind  whose  meanest  wish  is  pure 

Far  dearest  is  to  me, 
And  ere  I  'm  forced  to  break  my  faith, 

I  'II  lay  me  down  and  dee. 

For  I  hae  vowed  a  virgin's  vow 

My  lover's  faith  to  share. 
An'  he  has  gi'en  to  me  his  heart. 

An'  what  can  man  do  mair  ? 

92 


The  Siller  Crown 

His  mind  and  manners  won  my  heart. 

He  gratefu'  took  the  gift. 
An'  did  I  wish  to  seek  it  back 

It  wad  be  waur  than  theft. 

The  langest  life  can  ne'er  repay 

The  love  he  bears  to  me, 
And  ere  I  'm  ftjrced  to  break  my  faith, 

I  '11  lay  me  down  an'  dee. 

Susanna  Biamire 


"CUTTIN'   RUSHES" 

Oh,  maybe  it  was  yesterday,  or  fifty  years  ago ! 
Meself  was  risin'  early   on  a  day  for  cuttin' 
rushes. 
Walkin'  up  the  Brabla'  bum,  still  the  sun  was  low, 
Now  I  'd  hear  the  bum  run  an'  then  I  'd  hear 
the  thrushes. 
Youngs  still  young! —  and  drenchin'  wet  the  grass. 
Wet  the   golden    honeysuckle   hangin'   sweetly 
down; 
HerCy  lad^  here  !  will  ye  follow  where  I  pass. 
An'  find  me  cuttin'  rushes  on  the  mountain. 

Then  was  it  only  yesterday,  or  fifty  years  or  so  ? 
Rippin^   round  the  bog   pools  high  among  the 
heather. 
The  hook  it  made  me  hand  sore,  I  had  to  leave 
it  go, 
'T  was  he  that  cut  the  rushes  then  for  me  to 
bind  together. 
Come^  dear,  come  !  —  an'  back  along  the  bum 

94 


"Cuttin'  Rushes" 

See  the  darlin'  honeysuckle  hangin'  like  a  crown. 
Quicky  one  kiss,  —  sure,  there  's  some  one  at  the 

turn ! 
"  Oh,  we  're  afther  cuttin'  rushes  on  the  nioun- 

tain." 

Yesterday,  yesterday,  or  fifty  years  ago.  .  .  . 

I  waken  out  o'  dreams  when  I  hear  the  sum- 
mer thrushes. 
Oh,  that 's  the  Brabla'  bum,  I  can  hear  it  sing  an' 
flow. 
For  all  that 's  fair  I  'd  sooner  see  a  bunch  o' 
green  rushes. 
I^un^  burn^   run!    can  ye   mind  when    we   were 
young  ? 
The  honeysuckle  hangs  above,  the  pool  is  dark 
an'  brown : 
Singy  bum^  sing!  can  ye  mind  the  song  ye  sung 
The  day  we  cut  the  rushes  on  the  mountain  ? 

Mira  O'Neill 


TO  A  LATE   COMER 

Why  didst  thou  come  into  my  life  so  late  ? 
If  it  were  morning  I  could  welcome  thee 
With  glad  all-hails,  and  bid  each  hour  to  be 
The  willing  servitor  of  thine  estate, 
Lading  thy  brave  ships  with  Time's  richest  freight; 
If  it  were  noonday  I  might  hope  to  see 
On  some  fair  height  thy  banners  floating  free, 
And  hear  the  acclaiming  voices  call  thee  great ! 
But  it  is  nightfall  and  the  stars  are  out ; 

Far  in  the  west  the  crescent  moon  hangs  low, 
And  near  at  hand  the  lurking  shadows  wait ; 
Darkness  and  silence  gather  round  about, 
Lethe's  black  stream  is  near  its  overflow,  — 
Ah,  friend,  dear  friend,  why  didst  thou  come 
so  late  ? 

Julia  C.  R.  Dorr 


96 


CARNATIONS 

Carnations  and  my  Jirst  love  !  And  he  was  seven- 
teen, 

And  I  was  only  twelve  years  —  a  stately  gulf  be- 
tween ! 

I  broke  them  on  the  morning  the  school-dance  was 
to  be, 

To  pin  among  my  ribbons  in  hopes  that  he  might 
see.  .  .  . 

And  all  the  girls  stood  breathless  to  watch  as  he 
came  through 

With  curly  crest  and  grand  air  that  swept  the  heart 
from  you ! 

And  why  he  paused  at  my  side  is  more  than  I  can 
know  — 

Shyest  of  the  small  girls  who  all  adored  him 
so  — 

I  said  it  with  my  prayer-times:  I  walked  with 
head  held  high : 

**  Carnations  are  your  Jlower! "  he  said  as  he 
strode  by. 

or 


The  Answering  Voice 

Carnations  and  my  Jirst   love!    The   years  are 

passed  a  score, 
And  I  recall  his  first  name,  and  scarce  an  eyelash 

more.  .  .  . 
And  those  were  all  the  love-words  that  either  of 

us  said  — 
Perhaps  he  may  be  married  —  perhaps  he  may  be 

dead. 
And   yet,  ...    to   smell   carnations,   their   spicy, 

heavy  sweet, 
Perfuming  all  some  sick-room,  or  passing  on  the 

street. 
Then  .  .  .  still  the  school-lamps  flicker,  and  still 

the  Lancers  play, 
And  still  the  girls  hold  breathless  to  watch  him  go 

his  way. 
And  still  my  child-heart  quivers  with  that  first 

ecstasy  — 
"  Carnations  are  your  flower  !  "    my  first  love  says 

to  me ! 

Margaret  Widdemer 


A  REMINISCENCE 

It  is  so  long  gone  by,  and  yet 

How  clearly  now  I  see  it  all ! 
The  glimmer  of  your  cigarette, 

The  little  chamber,  narrow  and  tall. 

Perseus;  your  picture  in  its  frame; 

(How  near  they  seem  and  yet  how  far !) 
The  blaze  of  kindled  logs ;  the  flame 

Of  tulips  in  a  mighty  jar. 

Florence  and  spring-time :  surely  each 
Glad  things  unto  the  spirit  saith. 

Why  did  you  lead  me  in  your  speech 
To  these  dark  mysteries  of  death  ? 

Amy  Levy 


99 


DIRGE 

Never  the  nightingale ; 

Oh,  my  dear, 
Never  again  the  lark, 
Thou  wilt  hear. 
Though  dusk  and  the  morning  still 
Tap  at  thy  window-sill, 
Though  ever  love  call  and  call. 
Thou  wilt  not  hear  at  all. 
My  dear,  my  dear. 

Adelaide  Crapsey 


100 


"TO-DAY  I   WENT   AMONG   THE 
MOUNTAIN   FOLK" 

To-day  I  went  among  the  mountain  folk 
To  hear  the  gentle  talk  most  dear  to  me. 
I  saw  slow  tears,  and  tenderness  that  woke 
From  sternest  bed  to  light  a  lamp  for  thee. 
And  "  Is  it  true  ? "  hope  asked  and  asked  again, 
And  "  It  is  true,"  was  all  that  I  could  say. 
And  pride  rose  over  love  to  hide  gray  pain 
As  eyes  tears  might  ungrace  were  turned  away. 
So  much  they  loved  thee  I  was  half  decoyed 
By  human  warmth  to  feel  thee  near,  but  when 
I  put  my  hand  out  all  the  earth  was  void. 
And  vanished  even  these  near-weeping  men. 
Thus  each  new  time  I  find  that  thou  art  gone, 
Anew  do  I  survive  the  world,  alone. 

Olive  Tilford  Dargan 


101 


*.T- 


AN   APRIL   GHOST 

All  the  ghosts  I  ever  knew, 
White,  and  thinly  calling, 

Come  into  the  house  with  you, 
When  the  dew  is  falling. 

All  of  youth  that  ever  died. 
In  the  Spring-time  weather. 

In  the  windy  April  tide. 
Climb  the  dusk  together. 

For  a  moment,  lad  and  maid 
Stand  up  there  all  lonely; 

In  a  moment  fade  and  fade — 
You  are  left,  you  only. 

Lizette  Woodworth  Reese 


102 


THE   DEEP-SEA   PEARL 

The  love  of  my  life  came  not 
As  love  unto  others  is  cast ; 

For  mine  was  a  secret  wound  — 
But  the  wound  grew  a  pearl,  at  last. 

The  divers  may  come  and  go, 
The  tides,  they  arise  and  fall ; 

The  pearl  in  its  shell  lies  sealed. 
And  the  Deep  Sea  covers  all. 

Edith  M.  Thomas 


103 


AULD   ROBIN   GRAY 

When  the  sheep  are  in  the  fauld,  when  the  kye  's 

come  hame, 
And  a'  the  weary  warld  to  rest  are  gane, 
The  waes  o'  my  heart  fa'  in  showers  frae  my  ee, 
Unkent  by  my  gudeman,  wha   sleeps  sound  by 

me. 

Young  Jamie  lo'ed  me  weel,  and  sought  me  for  his 

bride. 
But  saving  ae  crown-piece  he  had  naething  beside ; 
To  make  the  crown  a  pound  my  Jamie  gaed  to 

sea, 
And  the  crown  and  the  pound  —  they  were  baith 

for  me. 

He  hadna  been  gane  a  twelvemonth  and  a  day. 
When  my  father  brake  his  arm  and  the  cow  was 

stown  away; 
My  mither  she  fell  sick  —  my  Jamie  was  at  sea. 
And  auld  Robin  Gray  came  a-courting  me. 

104 


AuLD  Robin  Gray 

My  father  couldna  wark  —  my  mither  couldna 

spin  — 
I  toiled  day  and  night,  but  their  bread  I  couldna  win; 
Auld  Rob  maintained  them  baith,  and,  wi'  teafs  in 

his  ee, 
Said :  "  Jeanie,  O  for  their  sakes,  will  ye  no  marry 

me?" 

My  heart  it  said  na,  and  I  looked  for  Jamie  back. 
But  hard  blew  the  winds,  and  his  ship  was  a  wrack; 
His  ship  was  a  wrack — why  didna  Jamie  dee  ? 
Or  why  am  I  spared  to  cry  wae  is  me  ? 

My  father  urged  me  sair  —  my  mither  didna  speak. 
But  she  looked  in  my  face  till  my  heart  was  like 

to  break ; 
They  gied  him  my  hand  —  my  heart  was  in  the  sea  — 
And  so  Robin  Gray  he  was  gudeman  to  me. 

I  hadna  been  his  wife  a  week  but  only  four. 
When,  moumfu'  as  I  sat  on  the  stane  at  my  door, 
I  saw  my  Jamie's  ghaist,  for  I  couldna  think  it  he. 
Till  he  said :  "  I  'm  come  hame,  love,  to  marry 
thee!" 

105 


The  Answering  Voice 

Oh,  sair,  sair  did  we  greet,  and  mickle  say  of  a', 
I  gied  him  ae  kiss,  and  bade  him  gang  awa'  — 
I  wish  that  I  were  dead,  but  I  'm  na  like  to  dee. 
For,  though  my  heart  is  broken,  I  'm  but  young, 
wae  is  me ! 

I  gang  like  a  ghaist,  and  I  carena  much  to  spin, 
I  darena  think  o'  Jamie,  for  that  wad  be  a  sin. 
But  I  '11  do  my  best  a  gude  wife  to  be. 
For,  oh !  Robin  Gray,  he  is  kind  to  me. 

Anne  Barnard 


FINIS 

Even  for  you  I  shall  not  weep 
When  I  at  last,  at  last  am  dead, 

Nor  turn  and  sorrow  in  my  sleep 
Though  you  should  linger  overhead. 

Even  of  you  I  shall  not  dream 

Beneath  the  waving  graveyard  grass ; 

One  with  the  soul  of  wind  and  stream 
I  shall  not  heed  you  if  you  pass. 

Even  for  you  I  would  not  wake, 
Too  bitter  were  the  tears  I  knew, 

Too  dark  the  road  I  needs  must  take  — 

The  road  that  winds  away  from  you. 

Rosamund  Marriott  Watson 


107 


"GRANDMITHER,  THINK   NOT   I 
FORGET  " 

Grandmither,  think  not  I  forget,  when  I  come 

back  to  town, 
An'  wander  the  old  ways  again  an'  tread  them  up 

an'  down. 
I  never  smell  the  clover  bloom,  nor  see  the  swal- 
lows pass, 
Without  I  mind  how  good  ye  were  unto  a  little  lass. 
I  never  hear  the  winter  rain  a-pelting  all  night 

through, 
Without  I  think  and  mind  me  of  how  cold  it  falls 

on  you. 
And  if  I  come  not  often  to  your  bed  beneath  the 

thyme. 
Mayhap  't  is  that  I  'd  change  wi'  ye,  and  gie  my 

bed  for  thine. 

Would  like  to  sleep  in  thine. 

I  never  hear  the  summer  winds  among  the  roses  blow. 
Without  I  wonder  why  it  was  ye  loved  the  lassie  so. 

108 


"Grandmither,  Think  Not  I  Forget" 

Ye  gave  me  cakes  and  lollipops  and  pretty  toys  a 

score,  — 
I  never  thought  I  should  come  back  and  ask  ye 

now  for  more. 
Grandmither,  gie  me  your  still,  white  hands,  that 

lie  upon  your  breast, 
For  mine  do  beat  the  dark  all  night  and  never  find 

me  rest; 
They  grope  among  the  shadows  an'  they  beat  the 

cold  black  air. 
They  go  seekin'  in  the  darkness,  an'  they  never  find 

him  there. 

An'  they  never  find  him  there. 

Grandmither,  gie  me  your  sightless  eyes,  that  I 

may  never  see 
His  own  a-bumin'  full  o'  love  that  must  not  shine 

for  me. 
Grandmither,  gie  me  your  peaceful  lips,  white  as 

the  kirkyard  snow. 
For  mine  be  red  wi'  bumin'  thirst   an'  he  must 

never  know. 
Grandmither,  gie  me  your  clay-stopped  ears,  that 

I  may  never  hear 

109 


The  Answering  Voice 

My  lad  a-singin'  in  the  night  when  I  am  sick  wi'  fear ; 
A-singin'  when  the  moonlight  over  a'  the  land  is 

white  — 
Oh  God !  I  '11  up  an'  go  to  him  a-singin'  in  the 

night, 

A-callin'  in  the  night. 

Grandmither,  give  me  your  clay-cold  heart  that 
has  forgot  to  ache, 

For  mine  be  fire  within  my  breast  and  yet  it  can- 
not break. 

It  beats  an'  throbs  forever  for  the  things  that  must 
not  be,  — 

An'  can  ye  not  let  me  creep  in  an'  rest  awhile  by  ye  ? 

A  little  lass  afeared  o'  dark  slept  by  ye  years 
agone  — 

Ah,  she  has  found  what  night  can  hold  'twixt  sun- 
set an'  the  dawn ! 

So  when  I  plant  the  rose  an'  rue  above  your  grave 
for  ye. 

Ye  '11  know  it 's  under  rue  an'  rose  that  I  would 
like  to  be. 

That  I  would  like  to  be. 

Willa  Stbert  Gather 


THE   PASSER-BY 

Step  lightly  across  the  floor, 
And  somewhat  more  tender  be. 

There  were  many  that  passed  my  door, 

Many  that  sought  after  me. 

I  gave  them  the  passing  word  — 

Ah,  why  did  I  give  thee  more  ? 

I  gave  thee  what  could  not  be  heard. 

What  had  not  been  given  before ; 

The  beat  of  my  heart  I  gave.  .  .  . 

And  I  give  thee  this  flower  on  my  grave. 

My  face  in  the  flower  thou  mayst  see. 
Step  lightly  across  the  floor. 

Edith  M.  Thomas 


111 


6 


"WHEN   I   AM   DEAD" 

When  I  am  dead,  my  dearest, 

Sing  no  sad  songs  for  me ; 
Plant  thou  no  roses  at  my  head. 

Nor  shady  cypress  tree : 
Be  the  green  grass  above  me 

With  showers  and  dewdrops  wet : 
And  if  thou  wilt,  remember, 

And  if  thou  wilt,  forget, 

I  shall  not  see  the  shadows, 

I  shall  not  feel  the  rain ; 
I  shall  not  hear  the  nightingale 

Sing  on  as  if  in  pain : 
And  dreaming  through  the  twilight 

That  doth  not  rise  nor  set, 
Haply  I  may  remember, 

And  haply  may  forget. 

Christina  Rossetti 


112 


REQUIESCAT 

Bury  me  deep  when  I  am  dead, 

Far  from  the  woods  where  sweet  birds  sing; 

Lap  me  in  sullen  stone  and  lead, 

Lest  my  poor  dust  should  feel  the  Spring. 

Never  a  flower  be  near  me  set, 
Nor  starry  cup  nor  slender  stem, 
Anemone  nor  violet. 
Lest  my  poor  dust  remember  them. 

And  you  —  wherever  you  may  fare  — 
Dearer  than  birds,  or  flowers,  or  dew  — 
Never,  ah  me,  pass  never  there. 
Lest  my  poor  dust  should  dream  of  you. 

,  Rosamund  Jl^rriott  Watson 


113 


"DOUGLAS,    DOUGLAS,    TENDER    AND 
TRUE" 

Could  ye  come  back  to  me,  Douglas,  Douglas, 
In  the  old  likeness  that  I  knew, 
I  would  be  so  faithful,  so  loving,  Douglas, 
Douglas,  Douglas,  tender  and  true. 

Never  a  scornful  word  should  grieve  ye, 
I  'd  smile  on  ye  sweet  as  the  angels  do ;  — 
Sweet  as  your  smile  on  me  shone  ever, 
Douglas,  Douglas,  tender  and  true. 

Oh,  to  call  back  the  days  that  are  not ! 
My  eyes  were  blinded,  your  words  were  few  i 
Do  you  know  the  truth  now  up  in  heaven, 
Douglas,  Douglas,  tender  and  true  ? 

I  never  was  worthy  of  you,  Douglas ; 

Not  half  worthy  the  like  of  you : 

Now  all  men  beside  seem  to  me  like  shadows  — 

I  love  you,  Douglas,  tender  and  true. 

114 


Douglas,  Douglas,  Tender  and  True 

Stretch  out  your  hand  to  me,  Douglas,  Douglas, 
Drop  forgiveness  from  heaven  like  dew ; 
As  I  lay  my  heart  on  your  dead  heart,  Douglas, 
Douglas,  Douglas,  tender  and  true. 

Dinah  3IuIock  Craik 


UNWEDDED 

Along  her  tranquil  way  she  went, 

The  slow,  sad  course  of  changeless  years. 

While  in  her  burned  her  youth  unspent, 
Dulled  sometimes  by  her  gentle  tears. 

In  richer  lives  she  saw  the  strange. 
Sweet  urgency  of  wedded  days ; 

In  dreams  she  watched  her  pale  light  change, 
Into  the  steadfast  altar  blaze. 

And,  waking,  sadly  bowed  above 
Her  slender  vestal  flame  and  wept; 

Ah,  better  were  the  house  of  love. 
By  blighting  fire  and  tempest  swept. 

Ada  Foster  Murray 


116 


UNFULFILLED 

I  READ  the  pain  and  pathos  of  your  eyes, 
The  aftermath  of  anguish  in  your  smile. 
And  yet  I  can  but  envy  you  the  while ! 

Your  heart  has  bled,  an  ardent  sacrifice 

To  Love's  fulfillment.    You  have  paid  the  price 
Of  keen,  fierce  living ;  nor  can  aught  defile 
The  joys  that  once  have  been  —  they  still  beguile 

The  tear-swept  memory  that  Time  defies. 

My  soul's  adventure,  pallid,  incomplete. 
Has  lingered  in  the  twilight,  for  my  heart 
Has  dwelt  aloof  in  some  dim  atmosphere 
Betwixt  the  Earth  and  Heaven.    My  alien  feet 
Have  known  nor  Pain  nor  its  great  counterpart. 
I,  who  have  never  loved,  may  shed  no  tear. 
Corinne  Roosevelt  Robinson 


117 


0 


A  LYNMOUTH   WIDOW 

He  was  straight  and  strong,  and  his  eyes  were  blue 
As  the  summer  meeting  of  sky  and  sea, 
And  the  ruddy  cliffs  had  a  colder  hue 
Than  flushed  his  cheek  when  he  married  me. 

We  passed  the  porch  where  the  swallows  breed, 
We  left  the  little  brown  church  behind, 
And  I  leaned  on  his  arm,  though  I  had  no  need, 
Only  to  feel  him  so  strong  and  kind. 

One  thing  I  never  can  quite  forget; 

It  grips  my  throat  when  I  try  to  pray  — 

The  keen  salt  smell  of  a  drying  net 

That  hung  on  the  churchyard  wall  that  day. 

He  would  have  taken  a  long,  long  grave  — 
A  long,  long  grave,  for  he  stood  so  tall  .  .  . 
Oh,  God  !  the  crash  of  a  breaking  wave. 
And  the  smell  of  the  nets  on  the  churchyard  wall ! 
Amelia  Josephine  Burr 

118 


"LESS  THAN  THE   DUST" 

Less  than  the  dust,  beneath  thy  Chariot  wheel, 
Less  than  the  rust,  that  never  stained  thy  Sword, 
Less  than  the  trust  thou  hast  in  me,  O  Lord, 

Even  less  than  these! 

Less  than  the  weed,  that  grows  beside  thy  door, 
Less  than  the  speed  of  hours  spent  far  from  thee, 
Less  than  the  need  thou  hast  in  life  of  me. 

Even  less  am  I. 

Since  I,  O  Lord,  am  nothing  unto  thee, 
See  here  thy  Sword,  I  make  it  keen  and  bright, 
Love's  last  reward.  Death,  comes  to  me  to-night. 

Farewell,  Zahir-u-din. 
Laurence  Hope 


119 


NORAH 

I  KNEW  his  house  by  the  poplar  trees  — 
Green  and  silvery  in  the  breeze ; 

*A  heaven-high  hedge,"  were  the  words  he  said, 
'And  holly-hocks — pink  and  white  and  red. . . .' 

It  seemed  so  far  from  McChesney's  Hall 
Where  first  he  told  me  about  it  all.  .  .  . 

A  long  path  runs  inside  from  the  gate, 
He  still  can  take  it  early  or  late; 

But  where  in  the  world  is  a  path  for  me — 
Except  the  river  that  runs  to  the  sea ! 

Zoe  Akhis 


120 


THE   MAN 

The  flame  is  spent,  I  can  no  more 
Hold  the  tall  candle  by  your  door ; 
Too  often  have  I  watched  to  see 
Your  lagging  steps  come  home  to  me. 

The  Tyrian  traders  taught  me  this : 
They  came  perfumed  with  ambergris. 
With  amethystine  robes,  and  hair 
Curled  by  the  kisses  of  salt  air. 

They  mocked  me  for  my  weary  hands 
Holding  your  light  as  love  demands ; 
They  sang  the  lure  of  poppied  sleep, 
Their  lips  were  warm,  their  eyes  were  deep. 

The  flame  is  spent  —  your  pale,  weak  face 
Must  seek  another  resting  place; 
Win  me  and  hold  me  now  who  can  — 
The  Tyrian  trader  was  a  man-. 

Helen  Hay  Whitney 

121 


"UNDER   DUSKY  LAUREL   LEAF" 

Under  dusky  laurel  leaf, 

Scarlet  leaf  of  rose, 
I  lie  prone,  who  have  known 

All  a  woman  knows  — 

Love  and  grief  and  motherhood, 
Fame  and  mirth  and  scorn ; 

These  are  all  shall  befall 
Any  woman  bom. 

Jewel-laden  are  my  hands, 

Tall  my  stone  above; 
Do  not  weep  that  I  sleep 

Who  was  wise  in  love; 

Where  I  walk  a  shadow  gray 

Through  gray  asphodel, 
I  am  glad,  who  have  had 
All  that  Life  could  tell. 

Margaret  IViddemer 
122 


INDEXES 


INDEX  OF   FIRST   LINES 

Across  the  shimmering  meadows 34 

After  the  flerce  midsummer  all  ablaze   ....  84 

Against  the  planks  of  the  cabin  side      ....  73 
Ah,  Love,  I  cannot  die,  I  ceinnot  go      .      .      .      .77 

All  the  ghosts  I  ever  knew 102 

Along  her  tranquil  way  she  went 116 

And  if  I  came  not  again 54 

And  ye  sail  walk  in  silk  attire 92 

As  a  little  child  I  come 40 

As  the  mother  bird  to  the  waiting  nest        ...  24 

At  Loschwitz  above  the  city 2 

Be  not  angry  with  me  that  I  bear      .          ...  27 

Before  I  trust  my  fate  to  thee 47 

BelovM,  my  belovM,  when  I  think       ....  26 

Bury  me  deep  when  I  am  dead 113 

Carnations  and  my  first  love  !  and  he  was  seventeen.  97 

Come  back  to  me,  who  wait  and  watch  for  you        .  69 
Could  ye  come  back  to  me,  Douglas,  Douglas   .      .114 

Cover  mine  eyes,  O  my  Love! 35 

Dear  Love,  it  was  so  hard  to  say 83 

Even  for  you  I  shall  not  weep 107 

Go  from  me.   Yet  I  feel  that  I  shall  stand  ...  64 

Good-bye  I  —  no,  do  not  grieve  that  it  is  over    .       .  66 
Grandmither,  think  not  I  forget,  when  I  come  back 

to  town .  108 

125 


Index  of  First  Lines 

He  was  straight  and  strong,  and  his  eyes  were  blue  .  118 

He  whistled  soft  whistlings  I  knew  were  for  me        .  14 

Hill  people  turn  to  their  hills    ...;..  23 

How  do  I  love  thee  ?  Let  me  count  the  ways    .      .  43 

I  am  the  Other  —  I  who  come 86 

I  am  the  wind  that  wavers 80 

I  came  into  your  room  and  spoke 58 

I  cannot  always  feel  his  greatness 37 

I  have  always  hated  the  rain 29 

I  have  seen  the  proudest  stars 3 

I  have  wandered  to  a  spring  in  the  forest  green  and 

dim 5 

I  knew  his  house  by  the  poplar  trees     .       .       .       .120 

I  leaned  out  my  window,  I  smelt  the  white  clover  .  31 

I  love  my  life,  but  not  too  well 59 

I  love  thee,  dear,  and  knowing  mine  own  heart        .  51 

I  must  not  think  of  thee;  and,  tired  yet  strong         .  65 

I  must  not  yield  .  •  .  but  if  he  would  not  sing  I  .  63 
I  read  the  pain  and  pathos  of  your  eyes  .  .  .117 
I  sat  among  the  green  leaves,  and  heard  the  nuts 

falling 13 

I  say  it  to  comfort  me  over  and  over     ....  72 

I  've  learned  to  say  it  carelessly 30 

I  went  out  to  the  farthest  meadow        ....  8 

I  went  to  dig  a  grave  for  Love 67 

I  will  arise  and  go  hence  to  the  west     ....  10 

I  will  not  give  thee  all  my  heart 56 

If  I  could  only  serve  him 81 

If  thou  must  love  me,  let  it  be  for  nought  ...  41 

It  is  so  long  gone  by,  and  yet          99 

Less  than  the  dust,  beneath  thy  Chariot  wheel         .  119 

Let  us  forget  we  loved  each  other  iuuch       ...  76 

Love  came  back  at  fall  o'  dew 90 

126 


Index  of  First  Lines 

Love  has  gone  and  left  me  and  the  days  are  all  alike.  70 

Love  me  at  last,  or  if  you  will  not         .       .       .       •  .  6 

Many  in  aftertimes  will  say  of  you        ....  78 

My  Dear  was  a  mason 36 

My  debt  to  you,  Beloved 46 

My  heart  is  like  a  singing  bird 17 

My  life  closed  twice  before  its  close       ....  63 

Never  the  nightingale 100 

Now  evening  comes.  Now  stirs  my  discontent         .  68 

O  my  Lover,  blind  me 42 

O  strong  sun  of  heaven,  harm  not  my  love         .       .  21 

Of  all  the  souls  that  stand  create 19 

Oh,  have  you  not  a  message,  you  who  come  over  the 

sea  ? 85 

Oh!  I  know  why  the  alder  trees 39 

Oh,  maybe  it  was  yesterday,  or  fifty  years  ago!        .  94 

Oh,  the  burden,  the  burden  of  love  ungiven       .       .  12 

Oh,  when  I  saw  your  eyes 18 

Out  of  the  window  the  trees  in  the  Square         .      .  7 

Pines,  and  a  blur  of  lithe  young  grasses       ...  91 

Rain,  rain,  —  fall,  fall 33 

So  beautiful  you  are,  indeed 20 

Somewhere  or  other  there  must  surely  be    ...  1 

Step  lightly  across  the  floor Ill 

Such  special  sweetness  was  about 52 

The  flame  is  spent,  I  can  no  more  .       .       .       .121 

The  hills  far-off  were  blue,  blue 15 

The  love  of  my  life  came  not 108 

127 


Index  of  First  Lines 

There  is  a  strong  wall  about  me  to  protect  me  .  22 
There  is  no  one  beside  thee,  and  no  one  above  thee  62 
There  was  a  garden  planned  in  Spring's  yoimg  days  11 
To-day  I  went  among  the  mountain  folk     .      .       .  101 

Under  dusky  laurel  leaf 122 

Walk  into  the  world 60 

What  good  is  there,  ah  me,  what  good  in  Love  ?      .    75 

When  I  am  dead,  my  dearest 112 

When  I  go  away  from  you 44 

When  on  the  marge  of  evening  the  last  blue  light  is 

broken 25 

When  the  sheep  are  in  the  fauld,  when  the  kye's 

come  hame 104 

When  we  shall  be  dust  in  the  churchyard  .      .     79 

Whose  doorway  was  it,  in  the  sordid  street  .  .  88 
Why  didst  thou  come  into  my  life  so  late  ? .      .      .96 

Yet  for  one  rounded  moment  I  will  be  ...  61 
You  ask  me  what  —  since  we  must  part  ...  57 
You  need  not  say  one  word  to  me,  as  up  the  hill  we 

go 49 

You  say  there  is  no  love,  my  love         .      .      .      .45 


INDEX  OF  AUTHORS 

y  Akins,  Zofi 33,  80,  120 

Aldbich,  ApfNE  Reeve 67 

Barker,  Elsa 39 

Barnard,  Anne 104 

Blamire,  Susanna 92 

Branch,  Anna  Hempstead 81 

Browning,  Elizabeth  Barrett    .       26,  41,  43,  62,  64 
Burr,  Amelia  Josephine  .      .      .      A   .      .51, 118 

Carbery,  Ethna 86 

•  Gather,  Willa  Sibert ^,  108 

Chesson,  Nora 10 

CoATEs,  Florence  EIarle 24 

Colby,  Vine 88 

CoNKLiNG,  Grace  Hazard 66 

CoRBiN,  Alice 6 

Craik,  Dinah  Mulock 114 

Crapsey,  Adelaide 100 

Dargan,  Olive  Tilford 101 

Da  VIES,  Mary  Carolyn 22 

Davis,  Fannie  Stearns 49,  64 

Dickinson,  Emily 19,  53 

Dorr,  Julia  C.  R 96 

Dudley,  Helen 3 

Ewing,  Juliana  Horatia 57 

French,  Nora  May  63,  68 

129 


Index  of  Authors 

Garrison,  Theodosia        ....      I      ..    72 
GuiNEY,  Louise  Imogen 25 

Harding,  Ruth  Guthrie 91 

Hope,  Laurence  73,  119 

HoYT,  Helen 14 

Ingelow,  Jean 31 

Lee,  Muna 79 

Levy,  Amy 2,  99 

•  Lowell,  Amy 27,  44 

McCouRT,  Edna  Wahlert 6 

McLeod,  Irene  Rutherford        .       .       .       .     20, 40 

Meynell,  Alice 65 

MiLLAY,  Edna  St.  Vincent 70 

Monroe,  Harriet 59,  66 

Murray,  Ada  Foster 116 

Naidu,  Sarojini 85 

Norton,  Grace  Fallow 8, 12,  45 

O'Neill,  Moira 94 

Palmer,  Alice  Freeman 83 

rPARRISH,  WiLLIAMINA 30 

Peabody,  Josephine  Preston       .      .       .       .     15,  18 

PiCKTHALL,  MaRJORIE    L.  C 13 

Procter,  Adelaide  Anne 47 

Reese,  Lizette  Woodworth         .      .      .52, 90,  102 

Rittenhouse,  Jessie  B 46 

Robinson,  A.  Mary  F 7,  75,  76,  77 

Robinson,  Corinne  Roosevelt 117 

«,h41ossetti,  Christina  .      .      .      .       1,  17,  69,  78,  112 

130 


Index  of  Authors 

Sackviixe,  Margaret 85 

Thomas,  Edith  M 11,  103,  111 

TiETJENS,  Eunice 37 

Tynan,  Katharine 58 

Untermeyer;  Jean  Starr 29,  60 

Watson,  Rosamund  Marriott     .       .      .      .107,113 

Wharton,  Edith         61 

Whitney,  Helen  Hay 121 

WicKHAM,  Anna  36,  42 

WiDDEMER,  Margaret 97,  122 

Wilcox,  Ella  Wheeler 84 

Wilkinson,  Florence 23 

Wilkinson,  Marguerite 21 


CAMBRIDGE  .  MASSACHUSETTS 
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